


Going With The Flow

by Buligete



Series: Fishy Series (Merformers AU) [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: All Cybertronians are Merfolk in this, Every canon character keeps their original name, Family, Friendship, Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Merformers AU, Other, Reader-Insert, Swearing, Will Add More Tags as more chapters are added, characters with normal names are original characters, this is my first upload on ao3 i hope the tags are okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2020-02-10 02:04:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 47,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18650686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buligete/pseuds/Buligete
Summary: “So… What are you going to do now?”It was the second time you’d been asked the exact same question in two days. The first time, you had not understood what your sister meant. Though you did understand this time, you pretended not to. You didn’t really want to talk about this, right now, in the middle of such a peaceful moment.“What do you mean?”Swerve sighed, sounding only ever so slightly annoyed.“You know very well what I mean, ___. What are you going to do now that you’re healed? What’s the plan?”---This is a Merformers AU (yes, another Merformers fic!)





	1. Prologue

_The water was freezing. Cold as balls. It bit into your skin, despite your clothes. You almost didn’t feel it through the pure agony screeching through your body. Weak flails turned into panicked thrashing as large fingers pressed mercilessly into your flank. The pain lanced through you from that one spot below your ribcage. Another arm, unbelievably large, managed to wrestle your arms into submission by your sides, the pain letting up momentarily as rough lips spoke would-be reassuring words into your ear._

_“I’m sorry, little one. This is for your own good.”_

_Then the burn returned with a vengeance as those strong fingers pushed back into your wounded side. You wanted to shriek, to howl your torment over the whistling of the wind and the roaring of the rough seas, but the heavy rain and salted water splashing into your gaping mouth turned those ripping screams into pathetic gurgles._

_As you spat out the water between your coughing and gasping, you began to register the fact that you were now moving through the stormy waters. Possibly towards shore. You didn’t know. You didn’t care. Even through the pain, you could feel your limbs grow heavy and stiff from the biting cold of the bay water as well as exhaustion. You stopped resisting the arm holding you aloft and the fingers causing bloody murder in your abdomen, knowing your kicking probably stopped doing any good ages ago._

_Darkness was creeping around the edges of your vision, blurring the distant specks of violet and white in the distance. Even the ache was beginning to dull as that overwhelming, soothing blackness threatened to take you over. Distantly, you felt strong hands grip your clothes, heaving you out of the water. Your head tilted down feebly as more arms pulled you higher up. The last thing you remembered seeing before unconsciousness claimed you, were a pair of electric blue eyes boring into you._

_Then all the hurting stopped._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story happens in a corner of the world where everyone speaks French. Unless specified otherwise, please assume all characters are speaking French!  
> I figured since May is also Mermay, that it would be the perfect excuse to publish this fanfic! This is my first published fanfic in a very long while, and the first uploaded on AO3, so please let me know if I have made any mistake tagging and classifying this. First proper chapter will be uploaded May 1st!


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Language Warning : Starting from this chapter, there might be a few bad words here and there. So kiddoes, remember, swearing is bad... Most of the time.

“Ow!”

You flinched violently, stopping yourself before you accidentally slapped the nurse at your side. At least, she seemed apologetic for the discomfort she caused.

Before she pulled the bandage free from the stitches it had gotten stuck in.

You hissed a breath through gritted teeth. She could have been a little more careful doing that, and you had the distinctive impression she was purposely being rough with you. The woman leaned over to throw the bloodied bandages into the bin tucked at the foot of your bed before turning to you, looking smug.

“Oh, did that hurt?”

You glared at her infuriatingly sweet smile, fists bunching up the sterile white sheets of your bed. You didn’t dare to dignify that taunt with a reply.

“Good. Maybe next time you’ll think twice before doing something so incredibly stupid,” came the retort, despite the lack of spoken answer.

“I did stop them, didn’t I?”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you shut it tight, regretting biting on the bait. The older woman turned, pining you with a practiced glare of disapproval.

“And nearly got yourself killed in the process! There’s a reason only trained coast guards are allowed to intervene.”

You wanted to protest, but even the pain-fueled anger failed you as you remembered the keening wails of distress, the pure white body writhing by the railings. The high pitched thrills echoed faintly in your mind, and you swallowed with some difficulty through your suddenly parched throat.

For a moment, it seemed like the nurse was ready to needle into you some more. But her features softened at what must have been a rather unbecoming look on your face.

“Did… Did they make it?” You managed to croak out the question, failing to find the courage to sustain the woman’s gaze, instead fixating on your sheet covered feet.

The following silence worried you. It was the same silence that weighed heavily each time you had asked that question the past few days. You sighed, bracing yourself for the same, non-committed answer that never actually answered your concerns.

“… Word came in not long ago, actually.”

Your head whipped around, staring expectantly at the red-haired woman. You didn’t know if your stomach was doing flip flops of excitement or knotting in anxiety, at the promise of news.

“The people at the rehab center called in this morning.”

“And?”

“Well, it was touch and go for a while... The poor thing was in shock, kept dropping out. They finally stabilized it— _them_ — early this morning. They’re resting now.”

The relief you felt from the update was so great, you couldn’t bring yourself to correct the nurse on her choice of pronouns. Not that it mattered anyway, as she caught herself before you could say anything.

“That’s great news!” You grinned, then paused. The woman didn’t seem to share your relief. “… This _is_ good, right?”

“Yes, I suppose. The bleeding was pretty severe apparently, they could have… But they didn’t.”

“So… What’s with the face?”

The nurse hesitated, and then exhaled a long sigh.

“The poachers were in the fins pretty deeply by the time you distracted them. That, or the netting got caught in when it – they – fell overboard, and cut in some more. The medics aren’t sure the poor thing will be able to make a full recovery.”

You felt your face pale, thinking of the white fins dangling and flopping uselessly against the dark wood of the deck in front of your eyes, despite the flexing muscles beneath the thick hide. You forced yourself to blink, the nurse reappearing in front of you instead of the blood soaked floorings and thrashing body.

“But – if they don’t recover…”

The nurse shrugged her shoulders slightly.

“They might just recover, for all we know. At least you had the good sense to call in the Coast Guard _before_ making yourself a foolish vigilante. The medics got to the scene fast enough that the severed fins might just take back.” She paused, biting her bottom lip gently. “Might.”

_Might_ wasn’t good enough. If there was even a chance that the severed nerves wouldn’t take again, that the fins would become a useless drag instead of the essential swimming limbs they were; or worse, if necrosis settled in… Suddenly, you wished you had been braver. If you had called in sooner, if you had moved in sooner, acted sooner-

“ _Don’t._ ”

You looked up, surprised by the woman’s sudden bark, blinking as you realized you had been scowling. Still, you put on a look of innocence, for good measure.

“Don’t what?”

“I know that look. The look of someone who is thinking something stupid. Something stupid like thinking they could have done more.”

The look of innocence disappeared, leaving a bitter frown behind instead.

“I _could_ have.”

“Your timely ‘intervention’ has already saved their life. That is more than enough.”

You weren’t convinced though. Your frown deepened as you remembered crazed red eyes, piercing into you almost as painfully as the sharp talons that dug into your arms, pointed teeth gleaming menacingly even in the near total darkness of the water. Those ruby irises had been burned on the back of your eyelids, promising a bloody end each time you closed your eyes. Finally, you spoke up, fingers ghosting over the healing scrapes along your upper arm.

“They weren’t alone… I think their… their mate, or their parent was there.”

The nurse’s face fell, as realization dawned upon her.

“Oh…”

If the Mer didn’t recover, if they had been left permanently disabled by the finning attempt, they would have to become a permanent resident of the Rimouski Marine Wildlife Rehabilitation Center.

Forcing the pair apart.

 

* * *

 

 

The lobby was unusually quiet, even for a countryside hospital. The receptionist at the desk seemed incredibly bored as she filed your release forms. You glanced at the security guard sat at her side. The pot-bellied man was obviously dozing off – the aviator sunglasses may have been hiding his eyes, but they did nothing to cover the quiet snores.

The lethargy was beginning to get to you too, and you turned to look at the sunlight pouring in from the entrance’s glass walls. The early morning sun filled the open room with soft, golden light, calling you outside. Or back to bed. You didn’t know which you wanted more.

Sighing, you turned your attention back to receptionist, hoping that staring at her might just get her to work faster. Just as you thought you might fall asleep face first into the counter, she finally completed the last of the forms, and waved you off without even looking up from her monitor. That was fine with you, all you wanted was to finally leave, and maybe go get some Timmies for breakfast.

As you turned to leave, you suddenly stopped dead in your tracks, recognizing the young woman stomping in a bee line towards you. You showed her a smile, which quickly turned sheepish as it seemed she wasn’t going to extend you the same curtesy. As soon as you were within arm’s reach, she grabbed you by the shoulders and shook you none-too-gently. The hands pressing into the gouges in your upper arms left you wincing before she even cried out.

“What the _hell_ were you thinking, ___?!”

Between the coast guards, the police officers, the doctors and the nurses, you were beginning to grow real tired of being asked that. Letting out a huff, you lifted a hand to carefully take her hands off your shoulders, not bothering to hide how sensitive they were.

“Well _good morning_ to you too, sis.”

“Don’t you ‘good morning’ me!”

“Gala…” You tried, lifting the palms of your hands defensively.

She didn’t want to hear any of it, made clear as she waved a pointed finger in your face, almost nicking your nose.

“You’d think that helping me study all these years, you would have known better than to do what you did that night.”

“Yeah, well, knowing so, and witnessing a live poaching are two completely different experiences.”

Galadriel scowled, and for a moment you were convinced she was going to blow. You braced yourself for the shouting that was sure to follow, but instead you heard her say something you never thought you’d hear in a million years.

“You’re right.”

You blinked, unsure whether you’d heard right.

“Seeing it happen before you, it’s… It’s nothing you can ever be prepared for. Even as a trained emergency responder.” She frowned again, although by now you could tell her anger had turned to mild annoyance. “Which is exactly why you should have let the Coast Guard handle it, you idiot.”

Faster than you could react, her hand was by your ear. She flicked it painfully, leaving you no time to defend yourself as she then considered you with a victorious glint in her eyes. Your yelp echoed in the empty lobby, and you took a step back to nurse your earlobe, fixing her with a scathing glare.

“You were damn lucky to make it out of there with only scrapes and stitches; do you at least realize that? Armed poachers were the _least_ dangerous thing you faced then.”

Your glare withered as you thought back on those red eyes, hazed with murderous rage, and those wicked talons digging in your flesh. How easily the wrathful Mer could have torn you to shred the moment you landed in their grasp, after you fell overboard. You still didn’t really know why, in the overall chaos of that moment, they didn’t kill you. They could have easily mistaken you for one of the poachers. And the water, it was absolutely freezing, the kind of cold that permeated to the very core of your bones. _Somehow_ , by some miracle, you’d managed not to catch pneumonia.

You took as deep a breath as you could manage with the sore ache in your abdomen, where the bullet had narrowly missed your liver, and let it out as a slow, defeated sigh.

“… I know.”

Gala seemed to be done needling into you by now, her frown slowly morphing into a sheepish look.

“Did anyone visit you at all these past few weeks?”

“No one that wasn’t an official, no,” you answered with a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders, ignoring the strain the gesture put on the scratches there.

Despite the uncaring attitude you put on, she gave you a look that betrayed her guilt.

“I’m sorry, ___. Had I known…”

“It’s fine. Really, I’m okay,” you cut her off before she would go on with unnecessary apologies. “I know you must have been busy, especially with the new patient I brought you guys.”

At the mention of the rescued Mer, she sighed and her whole body seemed to sag. You finally noticed the bags under her eyes, and with some concern, you realized she must have been having a bad time of it all. Being the only resident veterinarian _and_ Mer medic at the Rimouski rehab center at the moment certainly couldn’t have helped.

“You have no idea. Between the post-op observation, follow-up care – you know, replacing stitches, cleaning up the wounds, anti-bacterial treatment, and all the sedation involved in doing any of these – inspecting the other exhibits, and the regular maintenance that’s necessary to avoid a system wide cross-contamination across all the tanks…”

She paused, and you didn’t need to think very hard about how exhausting it must have all been.

“I hadn’t seen Jérémie in ages, until last night.”

Of course, through all of this, the one thing she found to complain about was the lack of time with her boyfriend. If she hadn’t seen him for so long, she mustn’t have been going back to their home at all then. You couldn’t help but chuckle a little, even if you showed her a sympathetic look.

“You must have grown pretty intimate with the couch in the staff room by now.”

“Urgh, that slab of rock they covered with fabric doesn’t deserve the title of ‘couch’, let alone ‘furniture’.”

You laughed, but quickly stopped as the motion pulled at your insides and made them throb resentfully.

“Well, glad to know I’m not the only one who suffered from an inadequate bed these past few weeks.”

“Hilarious.”

She didn’t look amused in the least. But at least she wasn’t angry or annoyed at you anymore.

“So. What are you going to do now?”

“Well, I was thinking of going to get some Timmies or something for breakfast.”

“Not that, silly. Are you going back home?”

The question took you by surprise, and you took a moment to ponder on it.

“Huh… I’m not sure, to be honest. I don’t think I can manage to drive for 6 hours straight with that,” you said, a hand hovering over the spot where the stitches had been removed just a few days prior.

“That’s what I thought. You know, you’re welcome to crash at our place if you want. Save you the expense of a motel room.”

You felt your cheeks grow warm, and you reached up to rub at one with a hand. You weren’t expecting your older sister to welcome you into her home that willingly, after all the time you’d already spent there before the incident.

“Would that really be alright? I’ve already stayed long enough as it is before now, I don’t want to impose.”

“Don’t worry about it. Besides, mum would kill me if I sent you packing _now_.”

_Ah_. There it was.

“I can contribute to the groceries and such, for the trouble. I still got some money left.”

“It’s alright, ___. We can afford it, it’s no problem.” She smiled as she shook her head.

You felt the warmth return to your cheeks, and you couldn’t help your own smile. The two of you fought like cats and dogs while growing up, so it still surprised you every now and then just how much your relationship smoothed out over the years. Especially from the moment she moved out of the family home. Now, your frequent visits and sleepovers brought nothing but good times, against all odds.

“I can keep Bruce company while you and Jé are working.” You added with a grin, already looking forward to spending some time with the black kitty.

“You won’t be smiling when he starts driving you up the wall in a couple of days. You’ll start hallucinating his constant meowing.”

Despite yourself, you laughed again, hiccupping through the ache in your stomach.

“You say that, but I bet you’re happy to hear something else than Swerve’s chattering when you come home in the evening.”

Your sister’s groan made you grin, knowing how much the resident Mer could infuriate her.

“Oh _god_. He’s been even more of a pain ever since we took that wild Mer in. It’s a wonder how I got any sleep at all with him around.”

As much of a blabbermouth and as clingy he could be, you knew Swerve wasn’t stupid. Others at the center might not have noticed, but he knew when he could talk someone’s ear off, and when he should leave someone alone. Such as, when an exhausted medic desperately needs some rest. You sighed, slipping your hands into your pockets.

“Speaking of the devil… How is the rescued Mer doing? Seems like they survived the initial shock.”

You tried not to sound too concerned, but you desperately needed more news. It had been at least a full week after the incident before the nurse had told you he’d survived, and almost two weeks had passed since then, without any updates. Gala gave you a calculating stare.

“Actually, that’s the reason why I’m here. I’m glad I was able to catch you before you left, I don’t know how I would have been able to contact you, with you losing your phone in the Bay.”

Urgh, you didn’t need being reminded of that. You’d just gotten that new phone, and you didn’t have that much money to waste on a replacement. Hopefully, the provider’s insurance covered cases such as ‘I lost it in the St-Lawrence Bay while rescuing a Mer from poachers’.

“Okay..? What’s up, Gala?”

She took in a deep breath, and sighed, looking exhausted again.

“Well, the Mer survived the initial night and so far, their wounds seem to be healing - better than expected might I add. But…”

You froze, a feeling of dread beginning to take root in the pit of your belly.

“But?”

“They won’t eat. They refuse all the food we bring them, and they won’t let anyone get near them. Very often, we have to sedate them just to be able to do routine things such as changing their stitches. They’ve survived on IV drip solutions we hook them up on when they’re unconscious, and their fatty reserves, but I’m afraid that won’t last for much longer.”

“That can’t be good for them,” you commented with a frown. You weren’t a vet nor a medic, but you had helped your sister study often enough to know that sedation wasn’t something to be done lightly, even on a Mer.

“No, it isn’t. We need to try something new, because at this rate, they’ll starve or slip away during anaesthesia.”

“And… How does this ‘something new’ involve _me_?”

Gala fixed you with a look between disapproval and resignation.

“The rest of the staff suggested bringing someone they might trust. Someone that they might allow near them.”

Oh. Oh _hell_.

“You _can’t_ be serious.”

“Hey, you’re always saying you want to be involved at the center. Now’s your chance to be.”

“Gala, I might have saved them, but they were lost in panic by the time I got there. They might not even recognize me as their helper!”

_God knows their parent almost didn’t_ , you thought to yourself.

“Even if they did recognize me, the sight of me might just trigger a panic attack, and that’s the last thing anyone wants. That’s the last thing _I_ would want, they might just try to maul me in their confusion.”

Gala smirked.

“I’ll take my chances.”

“You’re a _bitch_.”

“And don’t you forget it.” Her teasing smile disappeared after, giving you a concerned frown instead. “Seriously though, won’t you at least come and try? We’re desperate by now, and you’re the only one involved in their rescue we’re able to reach.”

You hesitated for a moment.

“I… I don’t know, sis. Sounds risky.”

“Come on, ___... You always go on about how much you want to help. You finally have the opportunity to do so, in a meaningful way. And you know we always have protocols and equipment to keep ourselves safe when interacting with unknown Mer. We’ll do all we can to keep you safe, both of you.”

She was right. You’ve been saying for years how you wished you could become more involved at the wildlife center. And there’s no denying it, any opportunity to work with Mer is golden, especially as an untrained volunteer. The most you’d been allowed to do so far was keep Swerve distracted for a while every now and then, so the rest of the staff could be productive in the meanwhile.

Not that it was such a difficult thing to accomplish; Swerve was _easily_ distracted, let alone entertained.

This was the chance to prove yourself as capable and reliable, even if you lacked any official formation.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, doing your best to forget the murderous red irises glaring at you.

“Fine. Okay. I’ll do it.”

Gala sounded pleased by your answer, even if she herself only seemed lukewarm to the idea at first.

“Thank you. We all appreciate it. And we’ll put up a commemorative plaque, should you fall in the line of duty.”

“Harr harr, very funny.”

Still, you couldn’t help but smile, as your sister half-turned for the doors and pointed with her thumb at the parking lot beyond.

“So, you said something about getting some Timmies?”

“Oh god, _yes_ , I’m fucking starving!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really any canon character interaction in this chapter, it'll be coming in the next chapter! I will upload it by next week for sure!


	3. Chapter 2

You shook off the excess water from your coat as you entered the _Lost Light_. It was a bit of an odd name for the building housing the Mer Education & Outreach program of the marine wildlife rehab center; but it was what the local Mer pod affiliated with the center called it, and it stuck ever since. _Lost Light_ had a better sound to it than the Vadim D. Vladykov Memorial Wing – and was less of a mouthful too.

You folded your umbrella, useless against the downpour outside, and placed it by the radiators to dry before nodding at the receptionist.

“Hey, ___. Good to see you up and moving again.”

“Thanks, Cynthia. Has Gala made it yet?”

Cynthia smiled, rummaging through the drawers of her desk.

“She arrived just a couple of moments ago. She’s in the staff room right now, prepping up for your intervention.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

Galadriel had given the both of you one day to rest before making any attempt at feeding the wild Mer, which you had made the most of to get actual, decent sleep in a real bed. And for once, nightmares of dark, freezing waters and piercing red eyes had not kept you awake. You both left her house at the same time this morning, each of you in your own car, but the traffic had separated you.

“Here, your pass.” Cynthia brought you out of your thoughts, handing you a laminated card hung onto a keyring strap. “Good luck in there.”

You took it with a nod, and promptly stuffed it in the pocket of your coat. It was pretty much unnecessary, everyone at the center knew you by face or by name by now, considering how often you visited alongside your sister. But protocol remained, and you never knew when a new guy might try to force you out; especially on a Tuesday, when the Rimouski Marine Wildlife Rehabilitation Center was closed to the public for maintenance.

As you walked down the entrance hall, heading for one of the corridors branching out to the right, you were paying little mind to the large tank at the end of hall. However a familiar shape of white and red streaked past, catching your attention. You had caught theirs too, as it soon returned, and a squat-looking Mer pressed their familiar face into the wall of the tank, blinking at you. Seconds after, they had emerged at the top of the tank, leaning over the glass wall to wave at you energetically.

“Hey! Hey, ___! Come here, buddy!”

You immediately forgot about the knots your stomach had tied itself in and the unpleasant, anxious fluttering in your guts at the sight of unofficial mascot of the center. His grin was contagious, and you opted to walk the rest of the way to the tank instead of disappearing down the hall leading to the staff room.

“Heyyy, Swerve, my man! What’s shakin’?”

You stepped over the security cord separating the tank from the carpeted area, knowing there were no kids around to give a bad example to. Now at the foot of the 5 feet high glass wall, you reached up to take Swerve’s hand, initiating a series of complex handshakes, crowned by a fist bump and whooshing noises as you both pretended to be blown away by some imaginary explosion. You had both perfected this not-so-secret-anymore handshake after having known each other for only a couple of hours, and since then, he would not have you greet him any other way.

By now, the white bellied Mer was downright giddy, tail and fins splashing up a bit of water all over the edge of the tank and over you. Not that you could get anymore drenched after walking through the horizontal rainstorm outside.

“Where the hell you been? You just up and disappeared one day! Did you go ahead and returned to Montreal without even telling me goodbye? That’s cold, pal, ice cold!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head.

“I didn’t go back to Montreal, Swerve. I’d never leave without letting you know first, you know that.”

He pouted, resting his chin over the edge of the glass.

“Then what gives? You could have visited at least once these past few weeks. It’s been incredibly boring here, everyone’s been busy.”

You blinked at him, wondering if he was playing dumb or if he actually had no idea what had happened to you.

“No, actually, I couldn’t have visited you. Didn’t Gala tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

Oh. Uh. This was going to be awkward.

“Well, hum, the thing is, I was sort of in the hospital this whole time.”

You ducked just in time to avoid most of the water sent sailing in the hall, and you almost reached up after to keep him from falling over the edge of the tank, but he regained his balance before you could do anything.

“You _WHAT!?_ What happened?! Are you okay?!”

You decided to reach up after all, gently easing him back into his tank, although his bulk made it rather difficult to move him at all by yourself.

“I’m fine, Swerve, calm down! Don’t fall over, man – you almost broke a rib last time. I’m okay, obviously – I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

Swerve went from panicked to mildly hysterical after your reassurances, but at least he’d slipped back into the observation tank and wasn’t teetering dangerously over the edge anymore.

“What the hell happened? How did you even end up in the hospital?”

“Well, I kinda got shot. And fell into the Saint-Lawrence River. Got hypothermia.”

You ducked again, more water splashing onto the carpet behind you. The janitor was going to hate you both later. In a couple of hours, the carpet was going to stink of dried algae.

“Shot?! What were you even doing?!”

Gala really hadn’t told him anything, hadn’t she? You frowned a little, unsure whether you were more hurt or confused by your sister’s choice of keeping your friend out of the loop about you. Why wouldn’t she even let him know that you were still here, in the three weeks you were stuck in the hospital?

“You want the short or the long version?”

“Give me both, I don’t care – ___, just tell me what the hell happened out there!”

You sighed, running a hand through your drying hair.

“Well, the short version is: I got between poachers and their prize. Long version is: I rammed my uncle’s old boat into some poachers’ ship, then after I pushed the Mer they’d captured back in the water, one of the assholes shot me, and I fell overboard.”

Strange how just remembering that night could make you tremble with terror at times, when you were alone and vulnerable. But right now, staring into Swerve’s alarmed, byzantine blue eyes, you found yourself downplaying the whole thing, and you couldn’t really tell for whose benefit you were doing so.

For a moment, his face went through a whole palette of emotions in an almost comical way, although confusion seemed to win in the end. He tilted his head sideways, staring at you with slightly narrowed eyes.

“Wait a minute… It was _you_? _You’re_ the one who saved Newbie?”

You blinked.

“ ‘Newbie’?”

“Yeah, that’s what we call them, the new Mer. They absolutely refuse to even talk to anyone, so we’ve had to think up a name for them at some point. Well, I say _we_ , but, really, seems like it’s just me.”

That sounded just like Swerve, and you couldn’t help a small smile as you tried not to shake your head. At least, the change in direction of the conversation seemed to have distracted him from his concern over your health. Thankfully, as he could be quite fussy, bordering on smothering at times, and you had places to be this morning.

“So, wait, if you’re the one who saved Newbie—“

“Save is kind of a big word; all I did was push them off the boat. I’m not the one who put cuffs on the bastards, or stopped the Mer’s bleeding, or reattached their fins, or spent days keeping them off death’s doorstep.”

“Bud, let me finish before going all modesty and humility. Besides, as far as I’m concerned, you’re as much of a hero as the police who arrested those bastards, or the medics who saved Newbie.”

You rubbed the back of your neck, glancing away. For once, someone wasn’t chewing your ear off about acting recklessly or being stupid. You should have been surprised considering how much of a fuss he was making earlier over your stay at the hospital, but you weren’t really shocked. Swerve seemed to idolize you sometimes, which always left you feeling slightly uncomfortable.

_He really needs more friends_ , you thought to yourself over the pinching in your chest.

“So, if you’re the one who saved Newbie, and the guys were talking about bringing one of the people who rescued them to get them to open up…” He paused, then pouted, sinking into the water. “You’re not here to visit _me_.”

“Aw, Swerve, come on. Don’t be like that, man. I was going to visit you anyway.” You tried to reassure him with a smile, reaching over the top of the tank in an attempt to find his arm. “True, I’m here to do something about sis’ patient, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to see you too.”

You couldn’t reach his arm with the awkward angle the height of the glass wall forced your arm in, but the pouty Mer reluctantly moved back to the surface. You gently rested your hand on top of his arm when he got within comfortable range, patting his thick, candy red hide. At first, he seemed to want to continue sulking, staring anywhere but at you. However, he eventually spoke up again. Nothing could shut him up longer than a couple of minutes, it seemed sometimes.

“You gotta come over more often. It’s too quiet here.”

You nodded, still smiling as you kept your hand on his cool skin. The _Lost Light_ was anything but quiet; the large tiled rooms of the examination pools echoed the sounds of water lapping at the edges, as well as the noise from the filters and the machinery in the walls; the laughter and shouting of kids on school day trips filled the rooms open to the public during visiting hours, and the chatter of the working staff echoed down the halls at any time of the day; not to mention that each of the rooms holding a resident Mer’s private tank tended to have their own radio, turned on to the channel of their choice at their request. There was always noise somewhere, be it from the internal infrastructure or from people.

But you knew that wasn’t what Swerve meant; the ambient volume barely mattered to him. He was a beluga-type, a highly social type of Mer who tended to live in populous pods, always surrounded by a crowd of friends and family, spending their entire day socializing in some manner – even hunting for food in groups. Beluga Mer didn’t deal well with solitude, and they were never meant to be alone – as Swerve often ended up being. Between all the time and attention given to the new rescued Mer, and the more reserved nature of the Lost Light’s other residents... No wonder he seemed so antsy today.

“I know… I’m sorry I couldn’t visit before now – I was released from the hospital only yesterday. I really gotta go take care of Gala’s patient now, but what do you say that after this, I sit down with you and a nice pumice stone, eh?”

The offer did just what you’d hoped it would; the Mer perked up, if only very slightly, and a small smile was beginning to replace his fretful moping.

“Alright. If you bring some sushi with you.”

You laughed and took a step back.

“Sorry, no can do. I don’t have that kind of money at the moment.”

“Bummer.”

It seemed like you could safely leave him now, to head for the staff break room and prepare for the intervention. Though you’d been delayed, you were glad to have had a chat with him; you felt heaps better now, ready to tackle the wild Mer. Err… Metaphorically. You stepped back over the security ropes, back onto the now soggy carpet.

“___, wait!”

You stopped, and tried not to sigh before turning back to Swerve.

“Yeah?”

“Can I have your phone before you go?”

You forced on a smile, then shook your head.

“Sorry, I can’t do that either. I’m afraid I lost it. It’s laying somewhere at the bottom of the St-Lawrence River as we speak.”

Swerve’s face slowly morphed from confusion to horror, and you had to bite down on your lips to keep from laughing.

“W-what? But… my Temple Run high scores..?”

You began walking backwards to the hall, shrugging your shoulders dramatically before letting your arms fall back by your sides.

“Sorry buddy.”

On that note, you turned around, and as you rounded the corner of the hall, you could still hear his horrified muttering.

“ _Oh god_ , what about my Roblox account?”

 

* * *

 

 

Gala was pretty highstrung as you entered the break room, giving orders to a few other people as she read through the charts on her writing pad. She paced the room, listing off the equipment you would all need once in the wild Mer’s isolation room. Immediately, you felt the beginnings of anxious fluttering reappear in the pit of your stomach, your good mood evaporating in contact of the tense atmosphere. You lifted your hand, about to let your presence known, when Gala turned and pined you with a cool stare.

“There you are, finally. Took you long enough to get here.”

“Sorry about that, I ran into Swerve on the way.”

She sighed dramatically, putting the notepad on a table, then pointed at the curtained partitions behind her with a thumb.

“Of course you did. Just get changed, we’re almost ready.”

You saw no point in arguing, you knew your sister could be impossible to deal with when she was in that kind of mood. You removed your coat and hung it on one of the last free hangers, grabbed a wetsuit and a pair of water shoes, and headed for one of the changing rooms, grateful to get changed out of your damp clothes. Even if you knew it wouldn’t be long before you would be drenched again. An unfortunate reality when working at the _Lost Light_. Still, you would be dry and warm first, for a little while at least.

You pulled the curtains closed and sat down as you began getting undressed. Your thoughts wandered as you set your clothes in the laundry bin where the staff dropped their wet clothing. Someone would eventually come around, pick it up and throw the lot in the dryer.

“Hey, Gala…”

You heard another sigh, and you held back your own at your sister’s attitude.

“Yeah, ___?”

You squirmed in your cubicle struggling to pull the wetsuit up against your damp skin.

“Why didn’t you tell Swerve about me?”

There was silence for a bit, and you weren’t sure whether she hadn’t heard you or was ignoring your question. But before you got an answer, you heard shrill shouting echo down the hall, as if triggered by the mention of the Mer’s name.

“ _Gala! GALA!!_ Why the hell didn’t you tell me ___ was shot?! I know you’re in the break room, Gala! Answer me!”

The curtain pulled back a little, just enough for your sister to poke her head in and give you one of her trademark flat stares.

“Precisely because of _that_.”

She pulled the curtain closed again, and you heard her shuffle for the door through the continued shouts.

“We were already stretched thin enough as it was, we could barely keep him occupied while we were all trying to keep the rescue alive. If I’d told him then, we would have never been able to keep him out of our hair.”

You winced as she suddenly started yelling through the doorway.

“I’M _BUSY_ , SWERVE! WE’LL TALK LATER!”

You couldn’t be sure as she then closed the door of the break room, but you were pretty sure Swerve’s reply held a few less than polite words. You shook your head as you stepped out of the cubicle, changed and ready.

“I didn’t want him to be even more stressed that he already was. You know how he gets when it comes to you.”

It made sense, but it still didn’t sit right with you, and you let her know as much.

“He deserved to know, Gala. He thought I’d just gone back home without even saying bye first.”

She turned to you, one brow quirked in an unconcerned expression.

“And?”

You frowned, your brow knitting low over your eyes.

“Don’t pretend that you don’t understand. You know those kinds of things matter to him. The least you could have done is tell him I was simply too busy to visit or something.”

Your sister stared at you for a moment, then sighed before grabbing one of the walkie-talkie units.

“Look, it’s too late for that anyway. I’ve got bigger fish to fry at the moment, and so do you. So can we get this done first? Then we’ll talk _all you want_ about your feelings.”

You tried not to scowl too deeply, growing increasingly irritated with her. She always got prickly like that whenever she was stressed or irritated herself, and you were beginning to remember why you fought so much as kids.

As she left the room through one of the doors, you also grabbed a talkie-walkie, and hooked it up to your utility belt as you followed her out. For a moment, there were no sounds except for the clip clops of Gala’s shoes and the squeaks of your water shoes’ rubber soles against the floor tiles. You stared up at the pipes running along the ceiling above you, carrying inside them the water that fed the tanks and pool complexes that filled the _Lost Light_.

“… Listen, to be honest, I didn’t tell Swerve because I simply didn’t think to. I was up to my ears in delicate surgeries, water tests, preparing updates and medical reports for Ultra Magnus, and somehow squeezing in some sleep every now then. It just never came up.”

You took in a deep breath, and nodded, slipping your thumbs into your belt. Taking this as a signal that the subject could now be set aside, Gala began reviewing the protocol for today’s intervention with you.

“Alright, so here’s how it will go down. You will be alone in the isolation room with the rescue. Our presence seems to set them on edge; they automatically clam down whenever we enter the room. Especially if there’s more than two people inside. So we’ll stay out of sight, to give you a chance to see how they react to you. We’ll keep radio silence, so as to not startle them.

“You’ll have a bucket with some live fish in it for them, but you ought to leave it at the edge of the pool. It won’t do the two of you any good if the fish escape the bucket and swim away, neither of you will be likely to catch them again. We’ve tried throwing some fish at them once, but we startled them and they either didn’t catch it or wouldn’t eat it.

“Do not get within their range unless you are absolutely sure they are calm and peaceful. Do not get into the water with them unless you are 100% confident they will not become aggressive. They’re weak, and restrained at the moment so it may look safe, but even weakened, strapped down Merfolk can be deceptively quick and dangerous – _especially_ if they feel cornered.

“If at any moment, you feel unsafe or threatened, back away slowly and give us a ping on the talkie-walkies. If it’s an emergency, forget the radio: _scream_. Shout, yell, make a lot of noise. We’ll go in and get you out of there. Got it?”

She stopped outside a door, where a handful of employees were waiting with their equipment. You tried not to eye the rifles some of them held. You knew they shot sedated darts and nothing else, but the sight of them still left you extremely queasy. You were never fond of firearms to begin with, but after ending up at the wrong end of the barrel of one… You suppressed a shudder and forced your attention back on your sister, trying to ignore the ice cubes running down your neck or the growing nausea you felt.

“Got it.”

A young lady stepped forward and handed you a vest to slip on. It was made of a thin, but rigid layer of rubber, and it covered all of your torso, your neck and part of your arms. It wasn’t much, but it was already better protection for your vital organs against a Mer’s claws and teeth than a simple wetsuit. Although it was uncomfortably stiff. You hoped you wouldn’t need it at all.

Gala looked you over once you were suited up, appraising your gear. She reached for the lidded bucket containing the fish, handed it to you, then stared at you with all the seriousness and professionalism she acquired through 7 years of university and half as many years as a resident Mer medic, here at the _Lost Light_.

“Don’t forget, you can back out anytime you want. You don’t have to do it if you’re not up to it.”

You nodded, finding it hard to speak suddenly as your throat felt tight, trying to quell down your stomach. You’d felt confident after your chat with Swerve, but now that you were here, having listened to Gala’s careful instructions, wearing a Mer-proof vest, and seeing the tranquilizer guns out, you struggled to find that courage within yourself.

“Are you ready?”

_No._

No, you weren’t anywhere near ready.

You gulped, trying to swallow saliva that wasn’t there.

“Ready,” you managed to croak out.

You forced yourself to turn for the door, and, after taking in as deep a breath as you could manage, entered the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally some canon character interaction! Every chapter in the future will feature at least one canon character from now on, so I apologize for the slow start... Next chapter will be uploaded next week!
> 
> I have made a design for Swerve, which you can find [here.](https://pillowfortmedia.s3.amazonaws.com/posts/09529e5d6a2c_mer_swerve.png)


	4. Chapter 3

_It was already dark outside. The sun hadn’t even set yet, but the cover of dark, rain-laden clouds which had taken over the sky brought with it an early dusk. You didn’t mean to still be out seaside after dark, but the storm had moved in faster than you had anticipated, stealing away the extra hour of sunlight you had counted on. Had it not been for your familiarity with this area of the river and your trusty compass, you probably would not be able to find your way back to the right shore reliably._

_You sighed, turning your ship around to travel eastward, and peeled your eyes for the Saint-Barnabé isle, which would signal your imminent arrival back to port. The last thing you wished was to be caught out in one of those nasty spring rainstorms. Your small fishing boat wouldn’t fare well out on rough seas._

_However, as your boat slowly wound around, a flash of light caught your attention. You hesitated, then stopped your boat to wait and see if the flash returned. It couldn’t have been the sunlight reflecting off the water considering the growing darkness, and so a part of you worried that it might be someone out there trying to signal an SOS. If their boat had broken down in the middle of the river, they would be stranded out there when the storm begins. They could be in deep shit._

_As you stared out over the water, you spotted a distant speck, a ship that was probably only a little larger than yours. You leant over to your shortwave radio and fiddled with the controls, seeing if perhaps they were trying to hail anyone for help on some frequency. There was nothing to be heard except for weather updates and warnings to return to port as soon as possible. You frowned. They didn’t seem to be moving, and yet they weren’t giving any distress signals._

_Another faint flash caught your eye, and you realized that someone onboard was taking pictures. Those idiots were probably so caught up fishing and posing selfies with their catches that they failed to realize the danger they were in. The small engine of your boat purred louder as you set off in direction of the other ship, going as fast as legally allowed in these waters._

\---

Your heart felt like it was about to jump out of your throat as you stepped inside the room, carefully closing the door behind you. The old, yellowed ceramic tiles reverberated the squeaking of your shoes and the gentle lapping noises of the water against the edges of the basin. It was deceptively large, the tiled walls making the room feel smaller and more cramped than it actually was. Were it not for the shallowness of the pool, you could probably swim laps comfortably across the center of the round examination pool.

The only light came from the fluorescent lights overhead, the pale grey light of the rainy day failing to properly illuminate the room from the skylight. You hated fluorescent lights; the cool, buzzing light irritated your eyes and sometimes gave you headaches after long exposures. It reminded you of high school and never-ending college classes. You’d heard Merfolk complain about the lights too at times, commenting that they would rather be left in partial darkness than endure them. On that, you could agree. But you needed the lights on for this, you needed to be able to see the wild Mer.

There were no other noises, no sign that your intrusion may have been noticed, and the silence unnerved you. So you took a few careful steps towards the pool, the bucket in your hand feeling too heavy and the floor too slippery.

\---

_Something didn’t feel right about this. Even relatively green fishermen would have noticed by now that the weather was taking a turn for the worst. The wind was beginning to wake now, blowing in increasingly aggressive gusts over the river, carrying with them the first few drops of rain. Fishing boats had no business being out in the bay after dark, on a stormy evening. But the ship obstinately kept radio silence, and did not emit any distress signals with lights or flares. And it was bigger than you had first guessed._

_Whoever was out there was seemingly trying to keep some sort of low profile. Whatever they were doing possibly skirted on the wrong side of the law. You slowed your boat, worried about getting caught in something you probably shouldn’t become involved in. The whistling of the wind covered the low rumble of your engines, but you were close enough now to see dark silhouettes moving on the deck. And if you could see them, they probably could see you if they faced the right direction. Perhaps you should turn around and forget about all this, get yourself to safety and let them deal with the storm if they were stupid enough to face it._

_You were just about to do so, when something white moved in the edges of your vision. You gave the suspicious boat a last glance, and froze on the spot. The people on the boat were busy manoeuvering a small crane, which was pulling onboard a large, writhing white shape caught in the fishing net. It was not a beluga._

_Belugas didn’t have_ arms _._

_You threw yourself on your radio._

_You needed to alert the Coast Guard._ Now.

\---

Once you could see inside the basin properly, you stopped and quietly gasped, nearly dropping the bucket.

It was undeniably the same Mer.

They were restrained over a floating stretcher, straps running over the lower half of their body up to their humanoid back to limit their movements; though their arms had been left free so they could still paddle around and grab on things, without risk of undoing their restraints. They were on the small side for a shark type Mer; white, with some teal spread about their back and encroaching on their flanks; black spots with yellow centers marking their arms and pectoral fins; large and youthful aqua eyes staring at you with barely contained panic, leaking mucus tears.

You took a moment to inspect their lower half and felt bile rise threateningly in your throat.

They would be scarred for life, there could be no doubt about that. Ugly, swollen pink lines striped with stitches bulged in a sickly fashion along their back and the bases of their fins, be they dorsal, pectoral, caudal or pelvic. The fuckers had really gone to town on them, trying to take as many of their fins as they could get away with. Probably amateurs, trying to make a quick buck without knowing which of the fins would be most valuable on the black market.

You wanted to throw up.

\---

_“Are you certain?”_

_“100% positive, sir. They are definitely no animal, and they definitively do not want to be there. This is a Mer poaching operation.”_

_“Are you sure this is not a planned medical intervention? The Rimouski Marine Wildlife Rehabilitation Center operates in this sector of the estuary, they do sometimes act in emergencies-“_

_“With all due respect, sir, I would know if they were of the_ Lost Light _crew. My sister is part of the Mer medical staff. If this was one of their boats, I would recognize it. This isn’t one of theirs. Contact them if you absolutely must, but I can guarantee that this isn’t one of their operations.”_

_You waited anxiously for a minute as the other end of the line went quiet, no doubt seeking confirmation from the center. Even knowing your identity, people rarely ever believed you on your word, no matter the situation. But you had long since grown numb to it. It was simply part of your life now. The delay was unnecessary, but unavoidable, as you stared at the white Mer being slowly lowered down to the deck._

_They were putting up a mighty fight, trying to tear through the net despite their tangled limbs, thrashing desperately. Their struggle rocked the boat a bit, but they were too small and light to truly upset the ship’s balance. They were almost on the deck now, trying to swipe their claws at anyone coming too close. You were feeling the growing urgency of the situation._

_Finally, the radio crackled back to life._

_“Affirmative, the RMWRC confirms this isn’t one of their operations. We are sending out a team to apprehend the poachers at the given coordinates, and the_ Lost Light _is sending in their medics. Please stay within visual range and update us on their movements-“_

_But you weren’t listening anymore._

_Despite the distance, despite the strong squalls, the roaring of the sea and the drumming of the rain on your inadequate cabin’s roof, you heard_ them _._

_You heard their shrill, high-pitched shrieks of agony. The distress in their wails reached you over the din of the storm, seizing your heart in its claws and tearing at your conscience. They sounded both animal and oh so human._

_“—tever you do, do not engage. I repeat, do not engage-“_

_Your head told you to follow the instructions you were given; as you always did your whole life. You looked from your radio to the distant ship, where the unbearable screams of the tortured Mer came from. Your hands tightened around the steering controls until your knuckles turned white._

**_Fuck this._ **

_You turned your boat towards the poachers’ ship, and floored it._

_\---_

You hadn’t realized your grip on the bucket handle had slackened until it fell on the tiles, clattering loudly. The sudden noise startled you both, and the Mer overtly panicked now.

They tried turning their back on you, their tail attempting to propel them forward. It succeeded in nothing but splashing water wildly about, covering you head to toes in cold water before you could step back. So you were drenched again, wet and cold before you could truly appreciate being warm and dry.

The Mer stopped once they were at the other end of the basin from you, turning to you with terror mixed with suspicion. You sputtered a little, spitting out the salty water from your mouth – which tasted dubiously like stale fish – and shook your hands before moving your dripping hair from your face.

Threatened Mer tended to puff themselves out, make themselves look larger by spreading their fins, and showing their claws and teeth in a threat display; however, you were surprised to find the wild Mer doing none of this. Instead, they were flat against the stretcher and still, blinking at you in silent confusion.

No, not confusion, you realized.

_Recognition._

They tilted their head slowly to the side, and you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. They recognized you.

\---

_They never saw you coming._

_So busy they were, trying to subdue the struggling Mer and trying to claim their prize, they never thought of looking over their shoulders for incoming guards. Or boats speeding recklessly towards them._

_It was only when you were moments away from impact that you realized that you had no plan._

_There was no time to panic. You let go of the controls and left the cabin, sprinting for the nose of your boat in the few seconds you had left. Sports had never been your forte, your estimations and timing were always wildly off. But now, as adrenaline rushed through you, you had somehow managed to make an accurate estimate of the moment of impact._

_As your boat collided with the flank of the other ship, you jumped and landed roughly on the other deck._

_There were cries of shock as the boat was violently rocked to its side, and you thought you heard a splash – maybe one of the crew had fallen overboard. You couldn’t really see what was happening as you slid down along with the rest of the men onboard and their equipment, up until something soft interrupted your journey. You didn’t get time to register what it was, as soon the boat was careening to the other side. The tilt was less dramatic than the first, and you managed to hold on to the wooden planking long enough to stare up at what had cushioned your impact._

_Your heart lurched in your chest as a thrashing body of white and teal was beginning to slide towards you. When the entangled Mer collided with you, their weight forced you to let go of the floor, sending you both sliding down. Thankfully, the boat was settling by the time to you arrived to the safety railing, saving you from what would have been an undoubtedly painful impact._

_You jumped up to your feet as soon as the boat felt stable enough, and gave a quick look over the deck. Three men remained aboard, clutching their sides or attempting to stop their equipment from falling overboard. You made the most of their distraction to step over the Mer that was still struggling at your feet, and began to push._

_You tried not to stare at the blood that was flowing all over the polished wood. Or at the severed fins flapping about in the Mer’s struggle. You ducked, avoiding the claws the Mer had swiped your way, and doubled in efforts. The railing stopped only a couple of feet down the deck from you, and you were growling by now, willing your feet to find purchase against the slippery floor. The Mer was still entangled in the net, but once they were in the water, that would matter less than them being out of harm’s way._

_The both of you arrived to the end of the railing, and you gave one last mighty push. To no avail. They were stuck. You looked over your shoulder at the men, who were beginning to recover from the initial shock. You were running out of time._

_Turning back to the Mer, you rolled around until you were on your back, and your feet against the Mer’s underbelly. You tried pushing with your legs, grunting in effort, until something grabbed your leg. Your head whipped to the Mer, whose panic had subsided just enough to grow aware of your presence. Your eyes locked for a moment in a silent exchange. The storm howled around you, the rain sticking your drenched hair in your face and washing away the mucus tears from their cheeks._

_Then you pushed one final time, and you felt relief rush through you as their bulk slipped overboard at last. Not before the hand on your leg tried grabbing on for purchase, slipping away with your boot in its grasp._

_\---_

You weren’t sure at first that they had been lucid enough to really register that you were trying to save them, or to even be able to memorize your face.

But as you stood there, it seemed obvious that they remembered you. The panic was gone from their eyes, and they stopped tilting their head, carefully paddling closer. That they were even approaching you first made relief wash over you like a warm tide. You relaxed and slowly sat down close to the edge of the pool, keeping your movements deliberate so you would not accidentally startle them again.

“Hey, you…” You greeted them, speaking softly.

They did not reply, stopping once they were floating about halfway over the distance that once separated you. You did not coax them closer. Best not to rush anything. Now that they were closer, you took the opportunity to study their features a little more.

They looked… Well, it would be a lie to say that they looked better than the last time you’d seen them. Sure, they weren’t bleeding all over the place anymore and their fins were attached to their body once more. But they looked… ill. An opaque film was growing over their large, round eyes, which were slightly sunken into their face. Cheeks that had been chubby before were starting to hollow out, and the white that had once been pure now looked grey and dull. You noticed, with a hint of revulsion that pus was seeping from between some stitches.

Not that you ever doubted your sister – after all she was the medic out of the two of you – but you could see now how urgent the situation was. The poor Mer looked _awful_. They were sick, thin, and in desperate need for sustenance and proper care. In need of someone to inspire some trust in them, so they would accept food and treatment. 

You must have been frowning, as the Mer looked sheepish, avoiding your gaze and shrinking in themselves. Crap.

You forced on a smile, although it felt strained and sad more than anything.

“You look – alive. How are your fins?”

They did not answer you. Their eyes darted around nervously, only risking tiny glances your way as the Mer began wringing their hands. You blinked and tilted your head slightly to the side. Both Gala and Swerve had mentioned the Mer refusing to communicate with anyone, but you began to wonder if it was truly the case. They did not seem to be shutting down and ignoring you, they only looked… embarrassed.

“Can you… Do you understand me?”

Still no answer, though they were staring at you now. Taking in a deep breath, you came to the conclusion that the Mer probably didn’t speak a single word of French. No wonder no one seemed to be able to get them to settle down and trust the staff.

When you glanced back at them, you noticed that their gaze had moved to the bucket next to you. Curiosity, or hunger? You leant over to remove the lid and inspected the contents inside. But instead of finding some variety of fish, you were surprised to find a single cod, and a small snow crab waving its pincers threateningly at your hand. Looks like the interns had too little time to gather a proper selection. You figured the cod was a safer option for your fingers, and lifted the fish out of the bucket.

Once your grip felt secure on the weakly struggling fish, you presented it to the Mer with a smile. And while they did glance at the fish, they didn’t seem too enthused by the offering, instead glancing back to the bucket.

Okay. So they were a little picky. Alright.

You slipped the fish back in the container, and frowned at the crab. Although it lacked eyebrows and a proper mouth, the crab seemed to scowl right back at you. Carefully, you lowered your hand in the bucket, keeping it out of reach of its snapping pincers, and grabbed one of its legs. You quickly lifted it out of the bucket, and grabbed it by a different leg to make sure it wouldn’t be able to pinch you, holding it at arms’ length from you.

When you turned back to the Mer, you almost grinned at the way they perked up at the sight of the crab. Their eyes had grown wide and had locked onto the crustacean with all the intensity of a cat with a laser dot, following its every movement. Looks like you had a winner there. But when you offered the creature to them, they stayed where they are, staring hesitantly from the writhing crab to you.

For a moment, you debated throwing the crab to them, as they seemed more than interested in the morsel, but hesitant to approach you. But you didn’t want to startle them, and your aim was legendarily terrible… You glanced at the Mer, then at the walkie-talkie on your hip.

Gala said not to get in the water with them unless you were absolutely certain they wouldn’t attack. You weren’t certain that they trusted you just yet. But, they did not seem aggressive either. Easily spooked, maybe. But dangerous? You looked at the dried mucus tears on their cheeks, the way they eyed the crab and fiddled with their fingers. If anything, they looked like a scared, hungry child.

Slowly, you pushed yourself to your feet, holding the crab away from you as you approached the edge of the basin. Before taking any other steps, you gave the Mer one more glance, finding them still in the same area in the pool. They made no move to get away as you began wading into the cold water towards them, simply observing your approach carefully.

You stopped halfway there, only a couple of feet separating the two of you now. You didn’t risk coming any closer, not wanting to come off too aggressively. The Mer still seemed unsure of the closing distance between the two of you, but it seemed their hunger was beginning to take precedence over their careful nature. You held up the crab with a smile you hoped was comforting as they began paddling your way.

Sports were never your forte. Your estimations and timing were always wildly off.

You only saw a brief bit of red in the corner of your vision before a nasty little pair of pincers clamped down on your brow.

“ _MOTHERFUCKER_ —”

\---

_You watched the Mer fall overboard, clutching one of your boots with them. Better just the boot than you with them, you thought. But a loud thud caught your attention, coming from the side of the boat. You scrambled closer to the edge and leant over to glance down. Your ship had begun to sunk, the earlier impact punching a hole in the fiberglass underbelly, but that wasn’t what had you swearing._

_The Mer was dangling over the water, struggling to free themselves from the net. The net was still attached to the crane’s pulley, and the rope was reeled in too short to reach the water. You pulled up your coat, patting your trousers to find your pockets, cursing under your breath until you pulled out a swiss army knife._

_It was probably considerably inadequate for the thickness of the rope, but it was the best you had on yourself. So you pulled the blade out and got to work, beginning to saw into the rope as quickly as you could, uncertain whether you were actually doing any damage at all. The rope seemed just as spotless no matter how much you hacked at it with your blade._

_You hadn’t heard the sound of heavy footsteps over the cacophony of the storm and the groaning of the ship, but the yelling made you jump on your feet and whirl around._

_“You – you little pest! You’ll pay for that!”_

_Another voice came from behind the man, but you couldn’t look away from the handgun pointed right at you. Your heart felt like it was going to stop at any moment as all your attention focused on the end of the barrel._

_“Forget it, Fred, we’re out of time! The Coast Guard’s coming and the ship’s sinking, we have to get out of there!”_

_You looked up to the man – Fred – as a malicious glint appeared in his eyes._

_“Can’t let the snitch tattle on us, can we?”_

_Your eyes grew wide and you opened your mouth, but whatever you wanted to say was drowned out by an ear-splitting bang. The ground flew from under your feet, and before you could comprehend what happened, you were submerged in the most freezing waters you’d ever been in. The shock drew the air from your lungs, and you struggled to get your bearings as the turbulent waters tossed you about. You desperately needed to breathe and you flailed as you tried swimming for the surface, whichever way that was._

_Just as you thought you’d found which way was up, a hand grabbed your shoulder and spun you around roughly. And you found yourself staring into the most intense ruby eyes you had ever seen._

_Overstimulated and screaming for air, your brain took in only as much information as it could process in your panic: sharp talons digging in your skin; murderous glare of blood red; sharp teeth, inches from your face; glacial temperature; burning in your abdomen; aching in your lungs- Air. Air air air – You began struggling, trying to swim away from the iron grip on your arms._

_This was how you were going to die._

_Drowning and shredded alive by a vengeful Mer._

_The Mer looked past you and snarled before letting you go, swiftly disappearing into the darkness around. You didn’t bother looking for them, instead you forced your body to swim with all the strength you could muster, up, up to the surface. When your head broke the surface, you gasped in as much air as you could, and choked on some of the salt water._

_Being shredded alive was off the table now, but drowning wasn’t. With your body hopelessly struggling between breathing and keeping you aloft, you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your head above water for long with your clothes weighing you down._

_Just as you were slipping under again, a gigantic forearm the size of your entire torso reached around you and pulled you back to the surface._

_\---_

You fell back into the water, flailing as the pincers dug painfully into your brow, their grip merciless. It hurt like _hell_ –

“Ow! Fuck-! Fucking shit–”

Sat in the cold water, you tried grabbing some part of the crab, any part that you could pull on to get it off your face, but through the pain blossoming near your eye and the god-forsaken thing so close to your face, you were struggling to find something to grab on. A cold hand suddenly rested on top of your head, easily covering it all with its size. You felt sharp claw tips rest against your scalp, making you pause.

Until something tugged at the pincers still clamped over your eyebrow.

“ _FUCK_! Stop that! Don’t - Don’t do that! No! AH! STOP!”

You hadn’t meant to yell. But for something so little, those pincers sure did hurt something big. And the stubborn little motherfucker didn’t want to let go. Neither did the Mer, who kept tugging on the crab, adding to your agony.

You heard the door slam open, and the sound of many footsteps stomping into the room, making your heart jump up through your throat. It was immediately replaced by a scream as the crab was suddenly ripped from your face, keeping with it a piece of your brow. Something large then slapped into you, sending you sprawling into the water as you struggled to get a grasp on the situation. Judging by the splashing noises, the Mer was panicking again.

“___! ___, are you alright?!”

That was your sister. Fuck.

You slowly pushed yourself on your knees, cupping your brow with a hand while raising the other.

“I’m okay! I’m fine! It was the fucking crab, so don’t –”

You opened your eyes, finding yourself staring right at the tranquilizer guns. The sight made your throat so tight you even struggled to breathe for a moment, your heart beating against your chest like a battering ram. They weren’t aimed at you.

It didn’t matter.

“Put the guns away!”

“But–”

“ _Put the goddamned guns away!_ ”

Your shout bounced off the tiled walls, filling the following silence, making your own ears ring a little.

Gala considered you for a long moment, then turned to the other volunteers.

“Get out.”

“The Mer –”

“The Mer is fine and so is ___, just get out! You’re freaking out the both of them!”

They weren’t given time to hesitate, as your sister hurried to shoo them out of the room, slamming the door shut behind them. However she remained inside with you, turning to pin you with a stare somewhere between confusion and concern. You allowed yourself to slump and take in a few shallow breaths once the rifles were out of sight, making no moves yet to wade out of the pool.

Silence reigned for a little while as you closed your eyes and forced yourself to breathe deeply, settling your nerves.

Something bumped into your back, and you turned to look over your shoulder, finding yourself staring into round, frowning eyes. You couldn’t help it, you chuckled softly as the Mer poked at your hand-covered brow.

“I’m fine. It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

They didn’t let up, wiping a finger beneath your hand and staring at the blood which now coated it.

“Aw, shit… It’s fine, though. Really.”

You knew they couldn’t understand you. But there was one thing you knew they would understand, as you showed them a small smile. You weren’t sure it was working at first as the Mer stared at you, their other hand holding the crab close to their chest. The feisty little thing was pinching them, but it seemed like they didn’t feel it. Probably because of the scales protecting their skin. Lucky bastard.

Eventually, they seemed to get the message as they gave you one last glance, turned to your sister, then paddled away. Once they found a quiet corner of the basin away from you and your sibling, they lifted their prize up to their face, and immediately chomped down into the creature’s body with a sickening crunch. The crab seized one final time, then grew limp; those nasty little pincers finally stilling.

Good riddance.

The outer shell crushed, the Mer busied themselves with extracting the juicy meat inside, disgusting noises filling the room. You turned to your sister as she kneeled close to the edge of the pool, glad for the distraction.

“Well, I’ll be damned. They’re eating. Looks like you did it.”

“I… didn’t really do much, though. They just recognized me, and, I guess that was enough for them.”

“Did you talk with them?”

“No. Gala, I don’t think they know any French.”

She sighed, shaking her head.

“That’s what I figured. We tried letting Swerve at them for a bit, but you know his grasp on any Merfolk dialect is… spotty, at best. Pipes, Rewind and Chromedome tried too, but I don’t think any of them speaks the same dialect as our guy. And no one has been able to get a hold on Ultra Magnus since the incident. They read the reports we leave for them, but we haven’t been able to catch them in person.”

“What about Rung?”

“They’re not here, not at the moment. Magnus requested their presence back with the pod when they returned from their winter migration. They’ve yet to return.”

You both hesitated, turning to look at the Mer at the other end of the pool. Sensing the shift in attention, they paused in the middle of their feast, one chitinous leg sticking out of their mouth as they glanced at you. You all exchanged looks for a moment, before the Mer frowned and held the carcass closer to their chest, turning their body to hide it away.

“Maybe they’re just… very young.” You offered, turning back to Galadriel.

“I’m not sure. I’ve never seen a shark Mer of their type before, so I can’t tell. They’re definitely not from around here.”

“Could be that the pair is a new addition to Magnus’ pod, then.”

“Pair?”

You blinked.

“There was another Mer with them, that night. A purple one. Big, murderous, scary guy? You didn’t see them when you rescued our fellow here?”

Gala shook her head.

“No. We didn’t see any other Merfolk other than Magnus that night. And they only stayed long enough to drop you off with the first responders.”

_Ultra Magnus_. It was the first and only time you’d ever met the local pod’s delegate – if you could call that a proper meeting. You couldn’t remember much other than that huge arm and those electric blue eyes; and you had not done anything except flail about then promptly pass out. Only a few chosen humans ever got to meet Magnus – even among the rehab center’s staff – and you doubted you’d ever get the opportunity to see them again. You wished it could have gone differently.

If only for the sake of your dignity.

“Come on. Let’s go get you dried up. You’ll need to disinfect that too,” Gala nodded her head towards your brow. “Then, you can tell me about that other Mer you saw.”

Your sister offered you a hand, helping you up on your feet and out of the basin. You only made it a few steps towards the door before something slid across the floor between your legs. You glanced down at the crushed, emptied carcass of the snow crab now resting in front of your feet, then turned around to where the Mer now peeked above the edge of the basin.

You smiled.

“Gala, is there any more crab left?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another week, another chapter! I do have a design done for the new Mer, which you can find [here!](https://pillowfortmedia.s3.amazonaws.com/posts/32cd3744d69c_mer_tailgate.png)
> 
> I won't go ahead and say who it is right away, but I believe I've made it obvious enough in the chapter, if not in the picture, who the injured Mer is... Also, I feel like I should make something a little clearer : Merfolk in this AU generally do not ascribe to human concepts of gender, hence the gender neutral pronouns.
> 
> Feel free to ask if you have any questions, kudos and comments are appreciated too!


	5. Chapter 4

Swerve’s laughter bounced off the tiled walls, echoing down the halls branching out from the Observation & Demonstration room. Your withering glare only served to heighten his giggling into obnoxiously high-pitched squeaks, rather reminiscent of a dolphin’s call. He didn’t need to name the source of his mirth, you knew before he even pointed at the _Hello Kitty_ bandage across your eyebrow.

“Shut up. They were out of _Finding Nemo_ ones.”

More laughter erupted after your comment.

With the staff room’s first aid kit being out of the proper size of bandages for your injury, Gala had to improvise and grabbed one from the stash the center kept for the visiting school kids. You had expected that Swerve would get a kick out of the children bandages, but his cackling had grown old after the first three minutes or so.

The Mer attempted to speak between bouts of uncontrolled giggles, struggling to get himself under control.

“How – how did you even – _heehee_ – how did you even manage to let a crab p-pinch you in the _face?”_

Oh great, someone told him that was what happened. And if Swerve knew, certainly most of the other Merfolk in the _Lost Light_ also knew by now. You wouldn’t get to live this down for a couple of weeks, at the very least. If ever. You knew your cheeks and ears had to be red as a beet by now, as you glared at your feet.

“You know I’ve got poor proprioception,” you muttered, unsure whether he’d hear you over his laughing.

When he failed to calm down or acknowledge your embarrassment, you scowled, resting your fists on your hips.

“If you don’t get a hold of yourself soon, I’m taking this pumice stone to Pipes instead.”

The threat seemed to work at least. He still fought fits of giggles judging by his goofy smile and the shuddering of his body, but he had shut up the very second you finished and stared at you with imploring eyes.

“Okay, okay, I’m- I’m done, I’ll behave. Please don’t take that stone to anyone else. I need this.”

Figures, he was probably about to start molting with summer fast approaching. He might already be feeling the itch.

You sighed, sitting down at the edge of the pool. Unlike the basins in the medical isolation rooms which started shallow at the edges and gradually sloped down the closer you got to the center, the pool in the Observation & Demonstration room started deep and only got deeper as you approached the atrium at the other end of the room. Whereas this half of the room was level with the edge of the pool, the other half was dug down a couple of meters, the borders of the pool made of a thick glass wall to allow the spectators in the atrium to see inside. Not that there was anyone else present at the moment except for the both of you, with the center being closed to visitors today.

Albeit other Merfolk could easily drop by at any moment, thanks to the underwater tunnels connecting this pool to the rest of the tank system. A resident could use these to travel from their personal, private tanks to any communal areas such as this one, or to another Mer’s tank. Assuming they didn’t close the access tunnel off with the retractable grill door each tank was equipped with.

Judging from the golden light pouring in from the skylight through patches of grey clouds, the two of you could expect some privacy for a while. It was late afternoon by now, meaning most residents were probably enjoying a nice meal somewhere private. Although, perhaps not the rescued Mer, considering how they had spent a good part of the day stuffing themselves full of every single crustacean and mollusk you brought them, after you’d taken care of your little scrape.

Galadriel had been so relieved to see the Mer’s appetite. It had been hard to tell back then if it was the stress or the illness which pushed them to refuse food in the past few weeks. But it seemed like your presence had really done a world of difference.

You still didn’t quite understand how or why, but you didn’t question the results: the Mer was eating – they even gobbled down the medicated morsels you gave them – and with your apparently comforting presence near, they had accepted to let Gala clean their wounds and replace their stitches. They still didn’t trust large groups and didn’t let anyone other than you or your sister come near, but progress was progress nonetheless.

“Hello? Earth to ___, come in, ___.”

You blinked, slipping back in the present to Swerve’s snapping fingers. He stopped as you raised a hand to your face, rubbing your eyes.

“Sorry, was lost in thought.”

“I can see that,” he commented, matter-of-factly. He considered you for a moment, tilting his head to the side as he rested his arms over the edge of the pool. “So… Apart from the crab incident, how did it go in there? How was Newbie?”

You took in a deep breath.

“They were… Fuck, they looked like absolute crap. The poachers they… they really messed them up, didn’t they?”

Swerve’s nasal ridge crinkled up, a small scowl appearing in his features as he nodded in answer.

“But… They recognized me. They recognized me, and, somehow, found it in themselves to trust me. After what those men have done to them, I’d have thought they wouldn’t want anything to do with me or any other human. Hell, I expected them to get a panic attack or something at the sight of me. Not… Not relax and let me bring them food.”

“I’m not surprised. You’re a good person, ___. Even Newbie must feel it.”

Your cheeks felt warm. But you gave Swerve’s smile a skeptical stare.

“I’m your friend. You’re _biased_.”

He laughed.

“Maybe so. Still, you’re genuine. And _that_ , I know I’m not the only one to think so.”

Genuine? That was a new one. Dense was usually what people thought of you. Or stubborn. You’d heard stiff too a couple of times in the past. But genuine? And from other people than Swerve? Somehow that was difficult to believe. That had to be his way of buttering you up, making you forget how he laughed at you earlier.

“Yeah, right. I’m sure.”

Swerve pouted, splashing a bit of water towards you. You laughed a little as you ducked.

“You make it really difficult to compliment you sometimes.”

“Sorry buddy, but that’s just how I am. You know I’m not used to that.”

“Well, you gotta get used to it at some point, ___. You need to get this through your thick head of yours, _I’m_ not gonna talk shit about my friend.”

“Bro, you literally _just_ _did_ ,” you teased him, laughing.

“Urgh! Right, that’s it!”

You barely had time to react; his hands were suddenly on your shoulders, and he dragged you into the pool before you could even blink. The water was cool, but nowhere near the freezing temperatures of the Saint-Lawrence River. The insulated wetsuit was more than adequate for the long soak you were probably going to have.

With the advantage of his bulk and of being in his element, Swerve easily wrestled you into the position he wanted. One arm hooked around both of yours behind your back, and he used it to hold you in the right angle. You laughed as soon as your head broke the surface, but not for long as he used his other fist to rub his knuckles into your scalp.

“Say uncle!”

“Haha, no! Ow- No, I- stop that! I won’t!”

You struggled against him, kicking back with your feet. But the water slowed your movements, making your kicks weak and ineffective, especially against the fat blubber which cushioned his lower half.

“Say! Uncle!”

He redoubled his efforts, and though as you didn’t want to submit, your head was really beginning to burn now. As soft as his rubbery hide was, his strength coupled with the size of his knuckles made it hard to ignore the growing friction.

“Argh! Fine! Uncle! _Uncle!_ You win!”

He released you as soon as the words left your mouth, although he now bore a most infuriating victorious grin. You splashed a bit of cold water over your sore head before giving him a promptly ignored stink eye.

“Now that you’re done being a difficult, self-deprecating friend, you can be a _real_ bud and start using that lovely pumice stone you brought with you. There’s this spot on my back I can’t reach and it’s driving me nuts.”

“Sure. You’ll just have to go get it, ‘cause I dropped it in the water when you pulled me in.”

“Oh… Oops.”

You watched him dive down with a small smile on your lips, easily reaching the sandy bottom of the tank some 7 or 8 meters below.

For once it wasn’t you trying to pick up the pieces of his self-esteem, you thought with a pinch in your heart. Not that you were any better off yourself. You sighed a little, running a hand through your hair as you kicked your feet to stay at the surface. What a pair the two of you made.

Swerve was coming back up now, stone in hand. You hastened to think of something else, put on a happy smile on your face instead of the morose look you probably sported right now. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts. Err, clownfish! Cute kittens! Puppies! Newbie going to town on a crab! Oh great, now you’re calling them Newbie too.

“What’s with that face?” Swerve asked, the moment his head broke the surface.

“Nothing, just, thinking of Newbie. They really, _really_ love their crabs, but the noises when they eat… It’s like a possessed sink garbage disposal.”

Swerve shrugged, handing you the stone before gracefully rolling around in the water until he was floating with his back up to the surface. A not so subtle request. You indulged him, moving closer so to be able to rest your arms over him, using his bulk as a giant, living pool noodle. Now that you weren’t sinking anymore, you could focus your attention on rubbing the pumice stone in small circles over his skin.

“Shark Merfolk have never really been known for their table manners.”

You snorted, giving special attention to a spot where his hide was already beginning to shed a bit.

“Like _you’re_ a shining example of etiquette yourself.”

“Hey, swallowing your fish whole is a lot cleaner than tearing it into bits. Besides, I’ll have you know I always say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’, I’m not a savage – oh – oh yeah, that spot’s good, right…  _Oooh_ , yeah, right _there_.”

He slowly arched his back, stretching languidly as he hummed his pleasure. The deep rumble travelled through the water, vibrating against your skin. It tickled and made you laugh.

“Don’t make this weird, man. Just hold still, will you? This one’s going to take a little while I think.”

“Hmmm, just don’t stop.”

It was hard to describe the sound some Merfolk made when pleased. A purr didn’t quite cover it. The closest thing you knew you could compare it to would be the deep bellows gators made when calling for a mate. But the implications of such a comparison, especially in this context, left you feeling somewhat uncomfortable. Perhaps leaving it at purring was better after all…

You weren’t an expert of Merfolk social customs, but from what you knew, such a behavior served as an appeasing gesture. It communicated safety and relaxation, invited other members of the pod to unwind and rest.

As you lazily rubbed the rock over his back, you began to notice a few spots of loose, old skin here and there. Passing the stone over these spots tended to break off the dead skin, falling in flakes into the water. What the stone didn’t work out, your fingers and nails usually made quick work of.

“Geeze, Swerve, you’re already beginning to molt, and we’re barely a week into May. No wonder you needed this, you must have been itching real bad.”

“You have no idea! Sand and concrete walls help a little when it gets unbearable, but nothing beats someone else actually scratching the itch, know what I mean?”

You chuckled quietly, nodding your head as you focused on an area close to his dorsal ridge. No, actually, you didn’t really know what he meant. You were flexible enough to reach any area of your body that itched, even in the middle of your back. You weren’t really familiar with the feeling of anyone else scratching your back. But that wasn’t to say you couldn’t understand the relief of having an itch properly taken care of.

“I’m glad you made the offer. No one’s had time to help me with this, with Newbie’s arrival and everything. Everyone has been… stressed. And busy. Gala and the others spent nearly 3 whole days just keeping Newbie off death’s doorstep. They barely had time to spare to put out some food for us or turn off the lights at night. Gala had to skip the water tests two days straight just to be able to get some shut eye, but you can bet you won’t find any mention of _that_ in her reports to Big Mags.

“Then after that it was four more days spent making sure Newbie was stabilizing and recovering. We tried talking to them after, explaining to them the situation, but, uh, I don’t think that took. Either they were too scared to listen, or my grasp on Northwestern Atlantic and Lawrencian dialects is even worse than I thought.”

“I don’t think it was you, Swerve. I don’t believe Newbie speaks any French, or any of the local Mer dialects. If neither Rewind, Chromedome or Pipes could make him understand anything, then it couldn’t have been your debatable proficiency with Merfolk language.”

“Gee, thanks.”

You couldn’t help a little laugh.

“Hey, you were the one doubting your capabilities, I’m just paraphrasing. Actually, Rewind told me you’re getting better.”

Swerve visibly perked up at the mention, turning his head to glance back at you with wide eyes.

“They have?”

“I believe their exact words were something along the lines of ‘he actually says intelligible sentences here and then’.”

“… That’s it?” He could barely hide the disappointment in his tone.

You gave him a warm smile, running the stone along his dorsal ridge in large, sweeping motions.

“Baby steps, buddy. Last year you could only say a few words, and barely made heads or tails of the syntax. The year before, you could barely even _understand_ Merfolk language. You’ll get there, with practice.”

The Mer didn’t look too convinced at first, his attention divided between his thoughts and your feet floating near his head.

“I suppose you’re right. It’s just… I should know this, I should know how to speak my own language. Shouldn’t I?”

You paused, staring at his back. After closing your eyes, you took in a deep breath, and shook your head slowly as you rubbed your hand over his back, both as a way to find more molting spots, and as a comforting gesture.

“Whether you should or not isn’t relevant, Swerve. It wasn’t your fault. You were so young… It was beyond your control.”

A heavy silence filled the room, the kind which seldom existed around a person allergic to conversational lulls, such as Swerve. You listened to the water quietly lapping at the edges of the pool, the distant echoes of footsteps and a squeaky cart wheel, as you stared at the back of his head. Without seeing his face, it was hard to tell whether your words had hit home, though you could sense the tension leaving his back.

Eventually, he slightly twisted his upper body around – careful to leave his lower half backside up for you to dote on – and gently grabbed your feet. You didn’t do anything to move them out of his reach, even letting him remove the water shoes from them. He threw them without much effort on the floor near the pool, landing with wet, squishy plops on the tiles. The water felt cold on your exposed skin, but the Mer’s hands wrapping around your feet helped a little. Without a word, he began pressing his thumbs into your soles, rubbing them with mellow pressure.

You let him do as he pleased, returning your attention to his back and the stone you held. It wasn’t the first time he did something like this, and you doubted very strongly it would be the last. In fact, you were rather surprised at how long he’d managed to keep his hands off of you this time; the earlier playfighting notwithstanding. Swerve was a very touchy-feely kind of guy.

Not in an inappropriate way, mind you. He was actually pretty good with respect and consent. Although some of the Merfolk in the dolphin family branch had an, to say the least, _unpleasant_ reputation among human divers, you never felt anything less than safe with your red beluga friend. You had told him a very long time ago what passed and what didn’t, and he never once even skirted close to those boundaries.

Still, he could get very physical sometimes. It was just a thing with beluga Merfolk apparently. Members of a pod spent a lot of time together, fostering incredibly intimate relationships; by human standards, that is. That usually meant that any physical affection and grooming behaviours were expected to be reciprocated, if the two Merfolk were of the same pod. But Swerve never placed such expectations on you.

You didn’t know whether you were grateful, or heartbroken on his behalf.

Not that you didn’t try to return his affections, in your own, somewhat aloof ways; you simply weren’t that good with physical intimacy sometimes. It just pained you that he did not seem to think he could ask for anything out of anyone.

You never really told him as much, but there were times that the way the _Lost Light_ staff treated him infuriated you. Even if most people here actually liked him, they often acted as if he were a hindrance, a high-maintenance nag.

Yes, they were severely understaffed; the current budget and funds for the center being what they were, they simply could not afford to hire more people and distribute the tasks in a way which permitted more leisure time with him. They hoped the other resident Merfolk would be able to meet his social needs, but truth be told, they weren’t exactly the most… compatible pod mates for a beluga Mer.

Swerve deserved better; better than what people here gave him, better than what little you could do for him. Still, you were here for now, and you could at least try to be a good friend tonight.

“So, that tells me what happened during the first week, but what about the other two?” You asked him, hoping to get him talking again. Silence such as this meant Swerve was spiralling into moods no one wanted to be in. If he was talking, all was good.

Usually.

He looked up from his hands, where his thumbs had begun playing with your toes; the alien limbs always piqued his curiosity whenever you went bare feet. It seemed for a moment you had not successfully distracted him from his thoughts, until the barest of smiles appeared on his lips.

“Well… You already know part of it, since you’re here. Newbie was so terrified, they wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t take medication, wouldn’t let anyone near them. Drove Gala up the bloody walls, as you can imagine.”

You laughed a little, rubbing the stone again over spots you suspected would molt soon, near the end of his tail.

“I can definitely imagine so.”

“Of course you do. We both know how she gets sometimes. So, here’s what she tried to do first…”

 

* * *

 

 

The evening had passed in the blink of an eye.

Between the conversations, the grooming, dinner, and the games, time had flown until the skies had cleared entirely and the stars began to shine brilliantly in the darkness.

At some point, a little before you went to order some food to be delivered for you at the center, Pipes had passed by on their evening lap around the underwater tunnels. Seeing as you were done taking care of your friend’s molting for now and that the focus of the grooming session had been reversed a little while ago, you let Pipes leave with the pumice stone before Swerve rubbed your feet raw with it. They’d wasted little time before disappearing with their prize, leaving the both of you alone again.

Alone you remained as you shared dinner, played water-polo, and then played Marco Polo when the ball fell out of your reach into the atrium below. When the wound in your flank began aching with the exertion, you’d stopped the games and showed off your healing scars at Swerve’s request. A strange look had crossed his face when he brushed his fingers over the gunshot wound beneath your ribcage, but it disappeared with a grin as he commented on your increasing “badassery” factor.

You had laughed too much to have the heart to tell him that wasn’t even a real word.

And now, the two of you were floating on your backs over the surface of the water, heads resting in the crook of the other’s neck, letting the simulated currents spin you in circles at a lethargic pace. With the lights dimmed, you could gaze up at the stars through the skylight overhead, shining like they never did back in Montreal.

Rimouski was the local hub of the region, but it was still nothing more than a big rural town compared to the bustling metropolis you hailed from. What little light the city produced at night was too scarce to blot out the stars from a sky black as coal.

Pink Floyd’s _Us and Them_ rang softly through the room from your iPod, which you’d plugged into one of the Lost Light’s many radios, filling the comfortable silence which had settled between the both of you. You’d sung a little before to the rest of the album, but the quiet melody had eventually commanded your attention, demanding that you listen to the gentle guitar riff and David Gilmour’s voice.

You were strumming along an invisible bass when Swerve suddenly spoke up, interrupting your daydreams.

“So… What are you going to do now?”

It was the second time you’d been asked the exact same question in two days. The first time, you had not understood what Gala meant. Though you did understand this time, you pretended not to. You didn’t really want to talk about this, right now, in the middle of such a peaceful moment.

“What do you mean?”

The Mer sighed, sounding only ever so slightly annoyed.

“You know very well what I mean, ___. What are you going to do now that you’re healed? What’s the plan?”

So he wasn’t going to let it slide this time. You took in a deep breath, closing your eyes for a second.

“… I don’t know. I still don’t have a plan. I could… I really should be going home soon. I’ve crashed at my sister’s place for long enough as it is, this time. I have to start doing something eventually.”

You opened your eyes, risking a glance towards Swerve. Your answer did not seem to please him in the least, although there was something of bitter resignation in his frown. You hated that you were making him feel anything like this.

“I’m sorry… If I don’t finish my studies someday, I have to at least start looking for a job. I can’t spend my whole life drifting about, waiting to land in the right place.”

There was a small silence, as the Mer pondered on your words.

“… What if you already did?”

“Huh?”

Swerve rolled around to peer down at you, an all too familiar smile on his face.

“You could work here.”

“You’re just saying that so we’ll get to hang out more.”

“And, you’ll get _paid_ to do it!” He replied while giving you the best approximation of finger guns his webbed fingers allowed him to make.

You laughed a little.

“I’m serious. Why not work here? You keep coming back.”

“I keep coming back because my uncle’s old boat is here. My boat which is now gone.”

“Oh please, you spent more time here than you ever did out at sea.”

He had a point. But you weren’t going to give him any false hopes.

“Even if I did apply for a job here, they’re not hiring. They keep turning down people who are actually qualified to work with Merfolk. So why would they hire a college drop-out instead of trained technicians and med school graduates?”

Swerve hesitated.

“… First-hand experience?”

You blinked slowly at him, skepticism tainting your amused smile. The Mer sighed and rolled again, floating on his back once more.

“Sorry buddy. You know the _Lost Light_ ’s funds are critically low lately, they just can’t afford to hire more people. That includes me.”

“But you help around so much, you might as well be working here! You are pretty much an employee in every way except the payroll.”

You shrugged your shoulders, joining your hands over your stomach.

“I don’t actually do that much, other than hang out with you and run the occasional food drive for the staff. And they only allow me to do this much because Galadriel is my sister. It’s the only reason they don’t charge me the entrance fee every time I visit.”

Swerve huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he slapped his tail over the surface. The resulting waves rocked the both of you a little. You tilted your head back to glance at him, but his gaze was firmly locked on the skylight above.

“… Hey. It’s not like I’m going to stop visiting you altogether. I’ll be honest, evenings like these make the 6 hour drives more than worth it.”

You tried to offer him a sincere smile, but he would not look your way.

“Once I make enough money, I could buy you a tablet. With the _Lost Light_ ’s wifi, we could chat anytime you like, even play Roblox together.”

That did not seem to move him much either. You stared at him a little longer, then sighed quietly as you also looked to the stars. You were at a loss by now, not knowing what to say that could cheer him up. You did not want to make promises you knew you wouldn’t be likely to keep, just so he would be able to watch you leave with a smile on his face.

“In any case… I’ll still be here for the foreseeable future. I can’t make the drive home yet with my injuries. And it seems like I’ll have to stay until Newbie has recovered enough to rejoin the pod, or... Or, if they don’t, at least until they come to trust the rest of the staff too.”

“The staff has asked you to stay and help with Newbie?”

“ _Gala_ has asked me to stay,” you corrected him.

“Last I knew, Gala was part of the staff, if not the temporary head of the whole department here. So… If you do well, there’s a chance they might hire you?” Swerve tilted his head back, giving you a look that was much too full of hope to your tastes.

You couldn’t help the small groan that left you, as you closed your eyes to rub them with your thumb and index.

“Swerve…”

“What? I’m just saying, there’s an opportunity there, if I ever saw one. If you do well enough, there’s a chance they might keep you in the team, right?”

“I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Hey, maybe if you impress Ultra Magnus, they’ll put in a good word for you!”

You almost choked at his words, as you struggled to gasp and scoff at the same time.

“I would not even _dare_ to think about that!”

You had heard enough about the stern delegate to know that there was barely _anything_ out there that impressed them. Ever. And if you had ever stood a chance of winning their good favour, you had most probably lost it the way you floundered and blacked out in their arms on that fateful night. First impressions could kill, and yours were nothing to be proud of.

To stake a possible employment at the _Lost Light_ on the off chance you _might_ impress a Mer you’d heard had once reduced a leading expert in Merfolk diplomatic relationships _to tears_ , would be setting yourself up for a definitive and hopelessly crushing failure.

And you had had enough of failures in your life as it was, thank you very much.

Besides, not that you would ever tell Swerve this, but you had your own reasons for not letting yourself dream of a job at the _Lost Light_. As supportive of a friend as he tried to be, he would never understand them.

Swerve’s face appeared in your vision, frowning down at you.

“___. If there’s a chance you might get to work here, no matter how tiny it might be, would you take it?”

You stared into his eyes, the blue of his irises almost seeming to glow against the black sclera.

You wanted to say no. It was what would be best, not to give in to his unrealistic hopes, not to encourage him, and so avoid the inevitable heartbreak that would be sure to follow. But you still felt torn, knowing that if you did say no, you would most likely be going to bed tonight with your friend’s miserable face constantly in the back of your mind.

You let go of the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“Yeah. I would.”

The Mer immediately grinned, moving out of your vision to roll onto his back again, moving his arms behind his head.

“Well, there you have it then.”

You sighed, moving until you were upright in the water again.

“You realize how infinitesimally small the chances of that working are, right?”

“But it is still a possibility,” he replied in a chipper tone.

He was either the most blindly optimistic Mer you’d ever run into, or the most stubbornly deep in denial one.

There was little hope of this _not_ ending in tears.

You opened your mouth, ready to let him know just what you thought of his plan, when movement caught your attention in the corner of your vision. You turned your head and blinked in surprise at the smallish, grey and white remora Mer which had appeared in the pool with you. They blinked back at you, hands joined over the yellow and red patterns on their chest.

“… Rewind?”

Swerve lifted his head, his attention also caught by your inquiry.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Rewind spoke, their French subtly accented. “I have been asked to tell you that Gala called. She says that she is going to bed soon, and if you are not back before she locks the front door, then you can sleep on the couch in the staff room.”

You cringed, thinking of how flimsy the cushions were against the unforgiving hardness of the couch’s frame.

“Oh, _hell_ no. Thanks for the heads up, Rewind. Kinda lost track of time here. Is she still on the line?”

“She should be. She was giving instructions to the night shift team over the phone.”

“Okay, great. Can you tell her then that I’m on my way back, please?”

The Mer nodded their head, about to duck back into the water before pausing. They tilted their head, listening to the music, then turned to Swerve.

“ _The Dark Side of the Moon?”_

The beluga Mer frowned, crossing his arms.

“What? It’s a classic.”

“Nothing. I’m more partial to _Wish You Were Here_ , personally.”

Oh, here we go again.

You raised your hands in an appeasing gesture, a sheepish smile on your face.

“And I think both albums are great. Come on guys, can we not do this tonight?”

Both Mer turned to stare at you, not for the first time making you realize just how large even the smallest of Merfolk were. Thankfully, neither pushed the issue any further.

“Goodnight, ___.”

“Goodnight, Rewind. Tell Chromedome I said hi, yeah?”

The grey Mer gave you a thumbs-up, then finally slipped beneath the surface, disappearing into one of the underwater tunnels. You sighed quietly, and turned to see Swerve still being very much pouty.

“… _The Dark Side of the Moon_ is still the superior album.”

“Hey, _Wish You Were Here_ is still pretty good too. I mean, at least they didn’t say their favourite album was _Ummagumma_ , or something.”

You smiled triumphantly as your comment made Swerve laugh, breaking his poor mask of faked outrage. But you didn’t let the derailed conversation distract you from the reason of the other Mer’s short visit.

“Well, you heard Rewind. I gotta go now.”

He visibly hesitated, watching you swim towards the pool’s edge. He glided over effortlessly, helping you clamber out of the water when your hands slipped on the wet tiles.

“… ___?”

You turned to him as he called your name, already wrapping a towel around yourself. Though you’d gotten used to the water’s temperature, leaving it always left you feeling freezing.

“You are going to try your best, aren’t you? Even if you don’t end up on the team after all?”

His enthusiasm from earlier had evaporated, leaving instead a vulnerable kind of sincerity he rarely showed to anyone else but you. You couldn’t help but answer with a gentle smile.

“When have I ever done things half-way?”

“Um. College?”

“… _Touché_.”

You sighed and kneeled down by the edge of the pool, keeping the towel wrapped tight around yourself.

“Look, you know my reasons for dropping out. I discussed them at length with you.”

“You did.”

Swerve smiled slightly at the memory. It was you sharing your fears and anxieties about your disastrous semester with him during one of your first times together which had led to your current friendship. He had an uncanny way of sniffing out when someone needed an ear or a shoulder.

He would make an excellent bartender.

If there was such a thing as a Mer bartender.

“So, trust me. I’ll do all I can to be the best unofficial intern the _Lost Light_ has ever had. I just think we shouldn’t get our hopes up needlessly.”

The Mer didn’t seem to agree, his smile widening.

“You’ll knock ‘em dead, kid. I know it.”

_Not literally I hope_ , you thought to yourself. Standing up, you shook your head and made your way to the radio to take your iPod.

“You’re really adamant about this.”

“Yup.”

“… I’ll do my best.”

That seemed to satisfy him, pushing himself off the edge and back into the water.

“You should probably get going, before Gala locks you out.”

“Yeah, I should.”

You really didn’t want to sleep on the staff room’s couch. With the thought of a warm, fluffy bed, you headed for the door.

“Goodnight, ___. Don’t let the bed crabs pinch ya.”

“Harr harr. Love you too, buddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is Wednesday my dudes. (AaaaaaAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH--)
> 
> All jokes aside, here's another chapter for y'all. Came out a little later than usual because I've just come back from watching Detective Pikachu, it was actually pretty great! A little predictable but still entirely enjoyable nonetheless!  
> You can find the designs for Pipes [here](https://pillowfortmedia.s3.amazonaws.com/posts/c40f7f8feea0_mer_pipes.png) and those for Rewind and Chromedome [here](https://pillowfortmedia.s3.amazonaws.com/posts/fd0fb3fbb5ea_mer_chromedome_rewind.png)!
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are very appreciated, please let me know of anything!


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I... tried something in this chapter. 
> 
> There is _Spanish._ A bit of it, towards the end. I have attempted to write it in a manner that even a non-speaker should be able to follow the conversation, but I am uncertain as to actual result. You, as ___, aren't supposed to understand everything that Newbie says. 
> 
> Otherwise, welp, Google Translate is your friend. I'll probably use a different system in future chapters if this doesn't really work out.

It had been a rather lovely day so far.

You had woken up from a long, dreamless night of sleep feeling refreshed and energized. Pulling the curtains open in the guest bedroom had revealed a bright, sunny morning, without a cloud to be seen. Breakfast with Galadriel and her boyfriend had been pleasant, and you even got to play a little with the cat before you and your sister made your way to the RMWRC.

Though it was a week-end morning, you had arrived early enough that the center had yet to be invaded by visiting families and gaggles of barely supervised children. Still, the _Lost Light_ was already bustling with activity when the both of you entered, as maintenance staff started on their daily routine and tour guides prepared for the long day ahead.

You’d spotted Swerve not far from a group of said guides on your way to the break room, resting his head on his arms over the top of the glass walls as he listened in on their conversation. He perked up when he spotted you too, enthusiastically waving back at you before turning his attention back to the staff below him. Same as the past few days, he let the both of you go to the staff room without following through the tunnels and communal tanks running parallel to the halls and main rooms of the _Lost Light_ – without bombarding you with questions and seemingly inane chatter.

After you had changed into the appropriate gear, Gala led the both of you to Newbie’s “room” as usual, carrying with you buckets of food and equipment. The sun filled the room with such bright and warm rays that you did not need the fluorescent lights at all, much to your and Newbie’s obvious relief.

And now, here you were, all three of you in the water, carrying your usual routine: Gala was kneeling next to Newbie’s lower body, examining their stitches and their wounds, while you distracted them with food and a good brushing; the stretcher was gone by now, not necessary anymore now that you could trust Newbie not to lash out or move abruptly enough to damage their stitches. While their skin was a little too rough for your bare hands, a boar bristle brush seemed to be doing good enough of a job.

Or at least, Newbie didn’t seem to be complaining, as they rested the upper half of their body over your lap in a display of trust that still made your head spin. Merfolk rarely ever trusted humans that easily; except for Swerve and Newbie, it would seem. Not that Swerve really counted, considering his circumstances.

You risked brushing your hand over their back, following the direction of their microscopic scales, to satisfy your curiosity concerning the texture; but you stopped as soon as the Mer tilted their head back to stare up at you. Even if the shape of their mouth made it difficult to emote properly, their eyes were so expressive that you had no problem reading the inquisitiveness in them.

You answered their unspoken question with a gentle smile, removing your hand to replace it with the brush instead. _See? Not doing anything weird or suspicious here, don’t worry little guy_ , you wished you could tell them. They stared at you a bit longer, before slowly blinking their third eyelid until they looked… _squinty_.

Like a happy kitty.

It kind of reminded you of Bruce, Gala’s cat, and you chuckled a little as you continued brushing their back. For how disgusting they could be when eating, Newbie could be pretty adorable any other time, as you found out over the last couple of days. It was just a shame no one else but you and your sister really ever got to see them like this. Did they ever realize just how much the rest of the staff worried about them?

Gala’s sudden question brought you out of your reverie.

“What have you told Swerve?”

“Huh?”

Your sister looked up from one of Newbie’s pectoral fins, giving you a practiced look of skepticism.

“Swerve has been behaving a little too well lately – making a point not to get in our way, cooperating with the tour guides and letting the rest of us do our jobs properly. What did you say to him?”

You shrugged your shoulders as you focused once more on the Mer’s back, sweeping the brush down between their shoulder blades and twin dorsal fins.

“Why does it have to be something I said? Maybe he’s just happy ‘cause someone’s finally giving him some attention every now and then.”

Gala scoffed, carefully rubbing an analgesic gel over the area where she planned on replacing some stitches.

“I’ve worked with Swerve for 4 years now, so I believe I’m right to think something’s up when he keeps obnoxiously winking at you and giving you not-so-inconspicuous thumbs-ups. _So._ What are you up to?”

You rolled your eyes, trying not to sigh. Leave it to an older sister to sniff out trouble before it even happens.

“Nothing, Gala. I’m just helping around however I can, nothing more, nothing less.”

“Uh-huh. Right.”

She drilled you with a stern stare, not quite unlike the one your mother used to give the both of you as children to get you to confess to some manner of mischief. Thankfully for you, your poker face was well-rehearsed and gave nothing away for her to nitpick on. Once she focused back on her task, you did the same. A comfortable silence filled the isolation room for a few minutes, while both of you concentrated on your work.

“So, speaking of helping around… Is there anything else I could do to help lighten the load? I know you’re all pretty busy with all the maintenance that goes into this place, the monitoring of the residents’ health, and so on.”

“You’re already doing a lot just making sure our fellow here is feeling safe. And doing whatever it is you do that keeps Swerve well-behaved.”

“Cool, but, isn’t there anything you don’t always get time to do? Getting water samples, maybe, or cleaning unused tanks…”

For a moment, Gala did not seem inclined to answer, but leaning gently over Newbie to peek at her work revealed that she was simply focused on getting the stitches right. After giving her a minute to finish up, she replied while cutting the extra length of thread.

“I can’t think of much that needs doing that I could really let you do, considering your lack of official training.”

You sighed, lowering your eyes to Newbie’s back. That’s what you figured. The Rimouski rehab center did not lack for janitors and guides, the only jobs you could ever hope to land without a specialized degree. Understandably, few people would be comfortable letting an untrained nobody do the kind of work others have studied for years to do.

“But…”

You lifted your head to glance back at your sister.

“But?”

“Well, I guess there are a few things you could help with.”

You tried not to get your hopes up too much, or else you knew you would probably find yourself feeling disappointed later.

“Like what?”

Satisfied with her handiwork, she shuffled back a little, giving Newbie a small smile when they twisted around to glance at her. She patted their flank gently as she sat back on her heels, her signal that it was now okay to squirm around if they wished to. The brush rubbing up and down their back though seemed to sap all motivation they might have had for moving about, instead opting to simply melt a bit more all over your lap.

“Like helping around with feedings, I suppose. Bit of a gopher thing, maybe, going out for simple groceries and deliveries.”

“I already do all of that,” you sighed. “Isn’t there anything else? _Anything_ at all?”

She hummed, pensive.

“Maybe… With some supervision, you could help with Pharma’s care routine.”

You felt the blood drain from your face.

“Pharma..?”

Gala seemed unsympathetic to your reaction, rolling her eyes as she turned to put away her equipment in a watertight toolkit.

“Don’t tell me you’re still scared of them? I mean, they _are_ kind of a dick, but they wouldn’t actually hurt you, you know.”

“Yeah, I’m not so sure about that…” You muttered quietly in response, lowering your gaze to find Newbie staring up to you, concern in their big, round eyes. You hadn’t realized you’d stopped brushing them when Gala made her suggestion.

To be honest, Pharma didn’t scare you.

They _terrified_ you.

Their resemblance to the infamous red devil squids was more than a simple coincidence in your opinion. They might as well be Satan to you. They were a cruel bastard who made it a point to scare the ever living bejeezus out of you whenever you had the misfortune of being alone with them. They were a dick to everyone, but they seemed to have it out for you particularly.

Sure, they had never actually _hurt_ you before.

But there were times when you weren’t so sure you could trust them not to. Pharma wasn’t quite right up there, in their noggin. After what had been done to them, by humans _and_ Merfolk alike, you couldn’t really blame them… But their instability made it difficult for anyone to get a proper read of what they would or wouldn’t do – which in turn made it ten times more difficult for _you_ to read them. Whenever Pharma got into one of their moods and tormented you, you didn’t really have anything to count on to convince yourself of your safety.

It was safe to say that not many people liked Pharma.

You were not the exception.

“Look, I know you don’t really get on well with Pharma, but they’ve never given me a reason to fear them, in all the time since they’ve been transferred here,” added your sister, after a minute of your quiet ruminations.

“That’s because you’re a doctor, Gala. They respect you. Sort of. I’m just another random human to them, a potential threat.”

“I don’t think that’s the case. I’m sure they respect you too.”

Yeah, _no_.

You suppressed a shudder, remembering the feel of their sharp-toothed suckers through your suddenly flimsy-feeling wetsuit. You knew your sister wasn’t lying when she said that the Mer treated her properly; you knew they could put on a relatively decent persona when needed. Which they usually did, whenever there were other people in the room.

Yet, the second the two of you were alone in a corner away from security feeds, the act would disappear into thin air. No one else, especially not Gala, had ever truly witnessed the extent to which they haunted you. There were stories, from the previous aquariums and marine life centers they’d been transferred from. Many thought the rumours had been blown out of proportion. You on the other hand, weren’t so sure.

“Is that why it always feels like they’re seconds away from strangling me, harvesting my organs, and selling them on the black market?”

Galadriel scoffed at the question.

“You’re exaggerating, ___. Besides, who could they sell your organs to inside the _Lost Light?_ But fine, I get it, Pharma’s not for the faint of heart, I’ll admit as much. I’ll find something else for you to do, I’m sure.”

She sounded disappointed, and, somehow, you were too. You thought back to Swerve’s face, hopeful and enthusiastic, as you had made your promise. Closing your eyes, you took in a deep breath before sighing it out.  You were so going to regret this later.

“If it’s something you need done, I can do it. I will do it.”

You weren’t going to like it at all, but you would do it. For Swerve.

Puppy eyed beluga better damn well appreciate it.

Gala looked rather surprised, staring at you in mild disbelief.

“Are you sure? Like I said, I’m sure there’s more I can find for you.”

“No, I’ll do it. But… If there’s anything else, I wouldn’t say no either.”

She blinked at you for a few seconds, then smiled.

“Glad to see you showing some courage. You’ll see, once you get to know them, Pharma isn’t so bad.”

Yeah, you still weren’t convinced at all. But you weren’t going to tell her as much.

You glanced down when a large, wet hand found your cheek, patting it insistently. Newbie was glancing up at you, a small irritated frown in their eyes. You’d stopped brushing their back a while ago, when Pharma had first been mentioned, and hadn’t started again since. You laughed a little, sweeping the brush once more over their back.

“Alright, alright, you little tyrant. I guess we’re not done here yet, Gala.”

“I can see that,” she laughed, leaning over to grab another brush in the bucket by your side. “It’s hard to think this is the same Mer who was terrified of anything that moved barely a week ago.”

“Right?”

Your sister watched Newbie squirm in a more comfortable position, obviously pleased and rumbling almost unperceptively, before shaking her head, smiling.

“It’s a shame we can’t somehow get their consent to post some pictures of them on our website. We’d get so many donations with that cute little face on the front page.”

You chuckled, taking a short moment to glance at the Mer’s face.

“They probably think they’re at some sort of spa resort by now,” you joked, watching Newbie relax once more. Their eyes closed in a pleased squint as Gala joined in on the massage, running her brush over their shark half.

“They’ll never want to leave once they heal.”

You both snickered, sharing short glances only to start giggling again.

“We’ll have to drag them back into the Saint-Lawrence bay by force.”

“Maybe we’ll have to get Ultra Magnus to help.”

Gala laughed a little harder, perhaps picturing the large whale Mer dragging poor Newbie by the tail before throwing them into the river.

“And it’ll all be your fault, for spoiling them so much!”

“ _Moi?_ Spoil them?” You exaggeratingly blinked at her, faking the most innocent expression you could muster.

“Yes, _you!_ ”

Gala threw her brush at you with a laugh, and you easily ducked out of its path, a grin on your lips.

Then suddenly everything was a blur of white, teal and water.

Before you had time to process what had happened, Gala had jumped back a couple of feet and you were hanging onto a suddenly very angry Mer. It took all of your strength to hold onto Newbie, arms wrapped around their torso as you barely managed to pull them back.

You finally understood after watching them swipe their claws in the air that the Mer was attacking Gala.

Wait, no – not _attacking_ Gala – they were _defending_ you. Judging by how much their struggling shook you about – as if you weighed so little – Newbie could have easily thrown you off and chased after your sister. They were _letting_ you hang on and hold them back.

Seeing how Gala was still backing up towards the basin’s edge with a hand hovering over the walkie-talkie, she had not realized as much yet. If she called in reinforcements to sedate them, then you risked losing all the progress you’d made with the Mer over the past few days.

Which is what you’d like to say was what you thought. But the truth was, you actually panicked at the thought of the tranquilizer guns.

“Wait! No, don’t! Stop!”

You didn’t really know who you were shouting at by this point, but it worked anyhow. Gala’s hand moved from the radio unit, and the Mer stopped struggling, both turning to stare at you. Your sister was giving you a peculiar look, and Newbie seemed appropriately sheepish. You focused your attention on the latter.

“You! You can’t just attack people like that, you big dolt! We were just playing, Gala wasn’t trying to _hurt_ me, _god_. Bad Newbie!”

You didn’t mean to say that last part out loud. You ignored the heat in your cheeks and ears, which were probably turning red at the moment, as your sister bemusedly repeated your last exclamation. It’s just that sometimes, with their big eyes and cute demeanor, they reminded you of a big cat.

Or… a big puppy?

Oh no.

Oh, _no_. They also were giving you sad puppy eyes.

What was it with Merfolk and puppy eyes?!

“No. Stop that. Not the… aw, hell.”

You groaned, running a hand down your face. And you thought Swerve’s puppy eyes were bad. Had you not grown some immunity to them, you were pretty sure Newbie’s could have reduced you to tears. He looked downright pathetic.

“It was your own fault, you doofus. Stop it.”

The Mer dipped their head down, beginning to wring their fingers. Then they mumbled something, so quiet, that you thought you’d misheard at first.

“ _Losiento…_ ”

You blinked a few times.

“… Pardon?”

They hesitated for a few seconds, then glanced up at you, still wringing their fingers.

“Lo siento…”

It was silent for a while, while you and Gala processed what just happened.

Then Gala threw her arms up in the air, sounding every bit as incredulous as you felt.

“Spanish! Of all things, they speak _Spanish!_ ”

Newbie flinched a little at your sister’s sudden movements, staring at her anxiously while you continued to process the implications. If the only human language they spoke was Spanish, then where exactly did they come from? Where the heck does the Lawrencian pod go during their yearly migrations, to pick up and adopt Spanish speaking Merfolk into their fold? You always assumed it was somewhere down south along the eastern American coast, but not _that_ far down south.

Or so you thought. Merfolk were not always privy to sharing the details of their migration routes with humans. It made it harder for poachers or other evil-minded people to track them down, especially during migration. A pod was at its most vulnerable while moving between seasonal residences, travelling through territory that is only vaguely familiar at best. And since knowing all the places where a pod resides during the year can also easily give away their migration routes, very few humans had the privilege to know where a pod goes to once they leave the area.

Not even Gala knew where the Lawrencian pod went to during the winter months.

“So… Spanish is actually rather close to French.” You eyed Newbie, who returned your gaze hesitantly. “Are you _sure_ you don’t understand us?”

The Mer simply stared at you for a long while, but eventually raised a hand, holding their index and thumb close to the other.

“Only a little bit, huh.”

They nodded.

Gala suddenly spoke up.

“___, you speak Spanish, try talking to them.”

You gave her a pointed look.

“Why don’t _you?”_

“Because the last time I spoke any Spanish was back in high school, while I was also learning Latin. My Spanish is piss poor. You, on the other hand, learnt it in college.”

“Yes. Three years ago. I haven’t spoken any since and it is rusty as hell.”

She shrugged, carefully sitting at the edge of the basin.

“Still better than me, though.”

You took in a deep breath, then sighed. She had a point of course, your Spanish was more advanced, and fresher in your mind. It didn’t make it any less awkward for you, and didn’t hurt your brain any less any time you tried to speak some. Spanish was just too close to French for you, and you had to make an almost physical effort not to mix up the two languages. You were going to have such a headache later.

After some hesitation, you addressed the Mer in the only language they seemed to understand.

“Habla español, ¿sí?”

Newbie’s eyes grew wider than saucer plates. You had no idea it was possible for their eyes to grow any bigger, and yet. Their hands were suddenly on your shoulders, and you felt rather small when they leaned in close.

“¡Sí! ¡Sí, hablo español! No sabía que vosotros pudisteis hablar español, ¿cómo es posible? ¿Cuándo lo aprendisteis? Pensé que nadie puede lo hablar aquí, tenía miedo de nunca poder entender a nadie.”

Whoa.

That was a lot of words, very fast. Too fast. Your mind was already reeling from trying to process the many words and what they meant. And it certainly didn’t help that Newbie’s accent was absolutely unfamiliar to you, different from any that you were taught in class. It made it even more difficult to understand anything.

Change of strategy, then. If you could take control of the conversation, maybe you would be able to glean something from their replies. So you opted to carefully ignore their questions, which you only managed to decipher half of, and substitute your own question.

It would probably help to know their name.

“¿Cómo… os… llamáis?”

God, you wished you had put more effort into learning the Spanish plural ‘you’. It seemed to be the form they preferred.

The Mer seemed to pick up on your hesitating grasp on the language, as they tilted their head slightly to the side before answering, enunciating slower and more gingerly.

“Portón. Me llamo Portón. Cómo un portón trasero. Al menos, eso es lo que me dijeron los humanos.”

Your eyes narrowed a little in concentration as you wracked your brain to find a translation for that. Gala didn’t help, asking her own questions while you tried to think.

“Wait, I got that first part. What’s their name? Do you know?”

“I’m thinking, sis. It’s… something like… Hatchback? Tailboard? Or, uh…. a tailgate, maybe?”

Newbie immediately lit up at that last part, clapping their hands together with barely contained enthusiasm.

“¡Sí! ¡Sí, esto! ¡Esto es lo que Cíclon dice que mi nombre es en francés!”

“What? What did they say, ___?”

You turned to Gala, still a little confused by their outburst, but having understood the main sentiment of it.

“They say their name is Tailgate.”

“¡Sí, Tailgate! ¡Soy Tailgate! ¿Y vosotros? ¿Cómo os llamáis?”

Tailgate stared expectantly from your sister to you, and back. Now knowing that they could be understood, the shy, reserved nature of the Mer took a complete flip for the earnest and exuberant. It was… a little jarring, to be honest. Was this really the same Mer who’d had a panic attack when you dropped a bucket a week ago? But the sprightly look in their eyes was such a relief to see, after such a long period fretting over their health – both physical and mental – that you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

Time for some introductions then.

“Soy ___,” you said, presenting your name before gesturing to your sister. “Ella es Galadriel, mi hermana.”

Gala’s Spanish may be poor, but she was at least able to recognize introductions when they happened. She waved gently with an amiable grin from the edge of the pool, where she still sat. She had yet to come back into the water after Tailgate’s fit earlier.

The Mer stared at her for a little while, an unreadable expression on their face. You weren’t sure you liked the look in their eye.

“… Ella es doctora. Salvó vuestra vida.” You added, thinking perhaps they needed to be reminded of whom they owed their life to.

Tailgate turned to you, hesitant.

“Os atacó.”

You sighed heavily, rubbing your healing brow with the palm of your hand, feeling the headache growing. So they did think Gala tried to attack you.

“No. No, jugamos. Cómo lo hacen hermanos.”

“Ah.”

The Mer looked between you and your sister, seemingly embarrassed, before settling on Gala.

“… Perdona.”

This was close enough to French to be obvious, even to someone who might have never taken Spanish before. Gala nodded her head graciously.

“Es… Está… okay. Está okay.” She finished the awkward acknowledgement of their apology with a just as awkward thumbs-up.

The gesture appeared to be alien to them, as they blinked at the hand in confusion.

Now that apologies were made, you thought perhaps now would be a good time to reassure them that they were in good human hands.

“Tailgate. ¿Sabéis dónde estáis?”

They turned to you, then shook their head. Your gut twisted a little, thinking about how they spent all this time not knowing where they were, not knowing if they were safe or not. No wonder they were so scared of everyone and everything at first.

“Esto es el Rimouski Marine Wildlife Rehabilitation Center. Aquí es el _Lost Light_. ¿La _Luz Perdida_? ¿Lo conocéis?”

Judging by the look they gave you, they probably had no idea what you were talking about.

Or so it seemed at first. You could almost see the lightbulb suddenly appearing above their head. _God_ , they had such expressive eyes.

“¡Ah! ¡Esto el centro de los humanos que Ultra Magnus mencionó!”

You perked up at the familiar name.

“¡Sí! Trajabamos con Ultra Magnus.” You reached out, taking one of their hands in yours, hoping they did not mind the gesture. “Estáis seguro aquí. Con mi hermana y su equipo.”

You realized a little too late that perhaps you were laying it on a little thick, trying too hard to reassure them that they were safe. They did not seem to notice, sharing your enthusiasm.

“¿Entonces, después de mis tratamientos, podré volver a mi clan?” They asked, excited at the prospect of an eventual return to their pod.

Oh. Crap.

The elephant in the room.

You felt your expression fall at the mention of their remission, turning to Gala while searching for something to say. She did not seem to have understood their question, but one glance at your face was enough for her to get what just happened.

You pleaded her for a positive answer with your eyes, but her lips thinned as she made a so-so gesture with her hand.

It was still too early to tell, with the infection in their wounds only just beginning to heal. You couldn’t tell whether they would be able to move their fins, or swim in deeper waters. Not yet.

You turned back to the Mer, scrambling to find some good way to break the news to them, but it seemed it was too late for that. Their eyes gave away the worry that they were beginning to feel. You had been quiet for too long.

“… ¿Podré volver a mi clan después, sí?”

There was supplication in their voice, an unspoken desperation, which squeezed your heart mercilessly. You opened your mouth to answer, hesitated, closed it, then opened it again. Having to translate your answer in Spanish didn’t help at all.

“Ah… No- no lo sé.”

Tailgate looked as if they’d just been stung. The pain in their expression hurt you just as much, and you barely realized you were squeezing their hand.

“Lo siento…” You tried to apologize.

They pulled their hand from yours, staring away from you. Mucous tears were beginning to gather at the corners of their large, fretful eyes. The way they turned from you felt like being shot in the gut again.

“Tailgate-”

“Quiero hablar con Cíclon.”

You stared at them for a while, struggling to process their request while you were frantically trying to think of something, anything, to keep them from spiralling like they were currently doing. You did understand what they said, but there was one problem.

“… ¿Quién es Cíclon?”

You had no idea who that “Cíclon” was.

Tailgate sunk in more on themselves, their expression growing darker.

They did not answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand, this is the last chapter of the Mermay blitz! 
> 
> I'm not giving up on this story, far from it! Only, we've hit the end of my bank of chapters I've written before I started working again (I'm a seasonal worker), and my 50 hours/week schedule is very hard on my productivity, unfortunately... From now on, this story will be updated as new chapters are finished - judging from my current rhythm, probably once a month, give or take. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's read this story so far! And as always, kudos and comments are immensely appreciated!


	7. Chapter 6

Your water shoes squeaked on the floor too loudly for your liking, as you walked through the halls of the _Lost Light_. Your head hurt and every noise, every light were aggravating in your current state.

You hadn’t slept well for the past three nights. Nightmares plagued your dreams, ruining whatever few hours of sleep you managed to get at night: suffocating in dark waters, searching hopelessly for a non-existent surface; finding yourself at the end of the barrel of a gun, staring into a cruel face before being shot down again; pushing Tailgate across an unforgiving and slippery floor, slipping in their blood and landing onto their claws; burning ruby eyes and gleaming teeth, ruthless talons tearing into your flesh like warm butter, tearing you inside out.

And speaking of the devil, no one seemed to have ever heard of nor seen your mysterious purple Mer either. Gala muttered something yesterday about the possibility of a delirious hallucination born out of shock. You hadn’t appreciated the comment at all. You knew what you saw and felt that night, you knew that Mer had been very much real. What else would explain the scrapes on your arms after the incident?

Then there was also Tailgate. Their condition had started to deteriorate again. They’ve been refusing most meals, which in turn affected how much medication they ingested. The risk of their infection growing resistant to the antibiotics because of the irregularity with which they took their medication was driving Gala insane. At least they still let her near to inspect their wounds and change broken stitches, even if they severely lacked enthusiasm in their treatment.

And they kept demanding to speak to “Cíclon”. Asking for any details about who that “Cíclon” was never produced any results either – Tailgate would only get an empty, wistful look in their large eyes, then grow silent once more.

The only good thing you could say about this whole ordeal is that your Spanish was slowly coming back to you, even if long conversations still gave you migraines. Not that Tailgate was susceptible to such chattering lately. No matter how hard you tried, you could not get them to cheer up or open up again. Now, they only brushed you off gently like they did anyone else trying to approach them.

You sighed deeply, feeling your shoulders drop as you came to a stop, lifting a hand to rub at your forehead. Thinking hurt – and thinking was all you were able to do right now, trying to figure out some way to keep Tailgate from deteriorating further. You didn’t like the idea of lying to a patient about their condition, but seeing the Mer starve themselves again made you wish you had lied to them. Gala’s desperation when she reached out for you at the hospital finally made sense, now that __you__  were the one watching Tailgate’s health decline once more and being unable to do anything worthwhile about it.

The sound of someone gently clearing their throat snapped you out of your thoughts.

You looked up to find Rewind and Chromedome floating in a tank not far from you, seemingly in the middle of grooming, or perhaps simply cuddling. Now that they had your attention, Rewind leant their chin on their fist, propping their elbow up on their mate’s chest as they both eyed you.

“We are not bothering you, are we?”

“Uh? I mean, no- no, you aren’t. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to come across anyone here.”

One of the Mer’s brow quirked up.

“This is our room.”

You blinked, then looked around, finally noticing the room you walked in, as well as the classic rock’n’roll station subtly playing over the radio on the desk not far. The same station the couple favoured, whenever they asked for the radio.

“… So it is.” You finally replied, feeling quite sheepish.

The remora glanced down.

“And this is our breakfast, is it not?”

You also glanced down after the rhetorical question, remembering the large bucket you were carrying as your eyes fell on it. The sight of it finally reminded you of your current task, and the reason why you even were making your way here in the first place. Gala had asked you to help feed the __Lost Light__  residents this morning, what with Tailgate’s condition necessitating her attention and some of the technicians taking sudden, unexpected sick days.

“Huh- Yeah, it’s… I-”

You stopped talking, instead bringing a hand down over your face, dragging it down as you took in a deep breath.

“… I’m sorry.”

Chromedome glided closer to the raised tank’s edge, gently moving Rewind off of them as they did. The large ray Mer always moved so gracefully in the water, you couldn’t help but stare as they swam near. Their impressive size and candy corn colours didn’t do much to help tear your eyes off of them either.

“Got a lot on your mind, don’t you?” They asked, unnecessarily so. Although Rewind had sounded a little ticked off, Chromedome spoke with a soft voice, glancing down at you with kind eyes.

Their patient understanding felt like a warm bed after a long, tiring day. You relaxed, sighing as you shook your head, staring down at the ground before your feet.

“Yes, a lot. I was just… thinking. Maybe a little too hard.” You looked up at the mated pair, rubbing the back of your neck as you realized what it must have looked like, barging in on them only to sigh and look miffed at the sight of them. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

The larger Mer beckoned you closer with a hand, curling long, spindly fingers at you over the edge of the tank. They then nodded their head towards the nearby raised platform level with the tank’s surface.

“Don’t worry about it, ___. Is it the new Mer?”

Now that you had received the invitation, you walked to the platform, climbing up the stairs with some effort while carrying the large and heavy bucket.

“Tailgate, yes. I’m really worried about them. They’re not doing well at all…”

Once on top of the platform, you shuffled carefully close to the edge of the tank and sat down, setting the bucket down by your side. Chromedome moved to lean their arms on the platform close to you. Their left arm stopped abruptly just below the elbow, in a nasty, gnarly, scarred stump, the large fin stretching from their arm cut short in the chilling shape of a bite – made even more horrifying by the size of jaws that must have taken out their arm, as Chromedome was no small Mer. You could lie down over their torso, and your feet would not reach the end of their lower body, where their hips tapered off into atrophied pelvic fins, from which their long, barbed tail began.

You knew which Mer had crippled them in such an appalling manner, but it was a name no one in the __Lost Light__  dared utter, or sometimes even think about.

You put that thought aside – no use bringing up old ghosts – instead reaching for the bucket to remove the lid and present the pair with their breakfast. As you struggled to get a grip on a rather lively walleye, Rewind slipped out of the water, hanging from their mate’s shoulder to peek at the bucket’s contents.

“We have heard something about their health degrading again. Why is that? I thought they were beginning to get better.”

As the fish slipped through your fingers again, you sighed and leant back, giving up momentarily.

“They __were__. But then I… I did something stupid, I guess.”

The smaller Mer looked away from the bucket to you, curious.

“As in what, exactly?”

You hesitated, unsure you wanted to share your blunder with the other Merfolk living in the __Lost Light__. If you hoped for a post there someday, it would probably not do to let the residents know about your mistakes.

Yet, at the same time, in all your visits, Rewind and Chromedome had been nothing if patient and forgiving with you, despite the distance they kept between themselves and most of the human crew. Not that they disliked humans – they just preferred their own company and those of other Merfolk.

With some resignation, you began to relate the situation to them.

“Well… Tailgate wanted to know if they could return to the pod once they healed, but, I… Well, we don’t know. We don’t know if they’ll be able to keep up with the pod after their fins heal, if they will be able to use them as they did before. And I- I didn’t want to lie. So I told them the truth: that we didn’t know.”

You paused, chewing lightly on your lower lip before continuing.

“They got all quiet after that, and since then they’ve refused most food, shy away from treatments and keep demanding to speak with a Cíclon. Or Cyclone, I guess. Whoever that is. I’d ask Ultra Magnus or someone in the Lawrencian pod, but no one’s shown up since they’ve returned from their winter migration last month.”

After your explanation, the mated pair shared a quiet, meaningful look. Then, Rewind turned back to you, adjusting their grip on their mate’s shoulders.

“I fail to see what you did wrong there, ___.”

You blinked at their comment, not having expected such a deadpan response. You’d thought that since Tailgate’s health took a plunge after your answer that perhaps you’d messed up. And yet when you looked at the two Mer, they only seemed as confused as you were.

“They needed to hear the truth, no matter how unpleasant. If you had told them what they wanted to hear, you would have only delayed the inevitable if the final diagnostic was bad.”

“And that doesn’t sound too different to how I reacted after my own diagnostic came through.” Chromedome added. “I had to work through the grief of having to become a permanent resident if I wanted to keep a good quality of life, and the grief of not being able to live with the pod anymore. Of course, having Rewind stay with me did help a lot.”

At that last part, the larger Mer smiled warmly down at their small mate, and leaned over to give them a quick kiss on the nose, which Rewind returned just as tenderly.

God, one of these days you were going to get cavities from watching these two be all lovey-dovey.

“Whoever that Cyclone is, they must be someone important to your Tailgate if they so desperately wish to speak to them.”

You nodded very lightly, though you were frowning by then.

“They must be. Except, we have no idea who they are. No one does.”

Chromedome hummed in thought, throwing a short glance to the side to their mate before looking back to you.

“And they’ll likely continue to deteriorate until that Cyclone person speaks some sense into them, if you ever find them at all.”

“Exactly.”

“Hmm. That is quite the predicament,” commented Rewind, resting their chin over the larger Mer’s shoulder.

“You can say that again,” you sighed, looking back to the bucket by your side.

Seeing that the fish inside looked a little more lethargic now, you leaned over and attempted to grab the walleye again. You were here to give the pair their breakfast after all, not dump your troubles on them.

You had managed to lift the fish out of the bucket when it suddenly started thrashing again, catching you entirely by surprise. You’d only managed to make a small yelp before it flailed out of your hands, slapping you with a loud, wet smack, then falling onto the platform. Both Mer chuckled as you reached up to rub below your eye where the fish had smacked you, not helping the blushing of your cheeks.

“First a crab, and now this. Marine life just hates you, doesn’t it?”

Ugh. Swerve __did__  blab about your incident to the other residents.

“You need some claws, my friend,” added Rewind, wiggling their own clawed fingers for you to see.

Amused, Chromedome unfurled a slender finger, tipped by a long and needle-like talon, and hovered it over the struggling fish for moment. Then, so fast your eye barely caught the movement, they impaled the fish with their claw. It went still almost immediately, and the Mer lifted the prize, still skewered, and offered it to their partner.

“I believe this is yours, luv.”

Rewind took the offering, although they gave the larger Mer a look which betrayed their annoyance.

“You know I do not like my preys pumped full of your venom, dear.”

“I know, I didn’t use any. I just pierced their heart.”

“Like you did mine.”

The couple shared another quick kiss, and you didn’t know whether you wanted to laugh or roll your eyes. It was wonderful how they were so shamelessly in love with each other, even after all the time they’ve been together. It would be adorable, if they weren’t so disgustingly sweet about it.

You only smiled and stopped yourself from shaking your head, watching as Rewind started biting into their meal, crunching scales and bones along with the flesh. At least, the noises weren’t as bad as when Tailgate fed.

As their mate ate, Chromedome tilted the bucket towards themselves, glancing inside.

“So, what have you got for me then?”

“Well, we have some rainbow trout, or chain pickerel, take your pick.”

“Mmh, don’t mind if I do,” they replied cheerfully, already reaching inside.

Although Chromedome could eat fish, it wasn’t part of their normal diet. Usually, they “grazed” on the phytoplankton and the zooplankton living in the seas, as they swam through open waters, and only ate small fish occasionally, if the times were bad. But it was rather difficult to recreate such a diet in the controlled, artificial environment of the __Lost Light__.

As they lifted a trout out of the bucket, gripped tight in their talons, they spoke up again.

“I wouldn’t worry too much, you know.”

You glanced up at them, confused.

“About Tailgate. Things will work out by themselves, you’ll see. They probably only need some time, to process things.”

Rewind nodded their agreement, their mouth too full to speak. Your brow knitted in concern despite their reassurance, and you raised a hand to rub your forehead gently, trying to ease the tension there.

“Maybe… But I can’t help worrying anyway. They were willing to starve themselves before I came along. And then we finally figured out how to communicate with them, and after the answer I gave them… It feels like I gave them a reason to doubt of our intentions, or that I broke their trust, somehow. How do I know they’re not back to wanting to starve themselves?”

You wanted to say more, as you felt your weren’t really explaining your concerns properly, but your head hurt too much to focus. God, you could really go for a nap right now. After taking in a deep breath, you let it out as a long sigh.

“I wish I could do more. Better than this. I wish I could at least get a hold of someone in the pod, anyone at all, so they can reassure Tailgate. They’ve never disappeared like this before.”

Both Mer exchanged glances quietly, staring a little too long at each other. You had the sudden feeling that they knew more than they let on about the pod’s uncharacteristic absence, but before you could voice your doubts, they focused back on their food.

“You’ll work things out with Tailgate, I’m sure. You’re Gala’s littermate after all.”

You had to make a physical effort not to bristle nor deflate at Chromedome’s comment. They meant well, you knew as much, but nothing bothered you more than being compared to your older sister. You bit back your retort, counting to ten in your head before speaking.

“I… appreciate the vote of confidence.”

“Of course,” the larger Mer replied, before stabbing the trout with their talons. Once the fish stopped struggling, they plopped it into their mouth, swallowing it whole with frightening ease. That fish was much larger and almost longer than your arm.

“At least you care. If they do not see it now, they will eventually. It is the least a patient could ask for.”

You bowed your head, pondering on Rewind’s words.

 

* * *

 

 

The Saint-Lawrence River always smelled like ass during the low tide. The odor of drying kelp carried easily with the wind, but at least it wasn’t a foul smell. It wasn’t the nicest of colognes either, but it was so deeply associated with the region, the childhood summers spent at your great aunt’s seaside cottage, that you had come to appreciate the scent.

Grey, cloudy days such as this one meant that the only source of light inside the __Lost Light__  came from fluorescent lights, which only made your migraine worse. So you had decided to take a break outside at the picnic table by the cliff side overlooking the river, hoping that a breath of fresh air would help clear your head, after your talk with Rewind and Chromedome, and yet another unsuccessful attempt to get Tailgate to eat.

You took in a deep breath of the fresh marine air, remembering simpler days of your youth spent exploring pebbly beaches, attempting to skip rocks over the water, fishing minnows with a bucket during the high tide, digging out marine clay at low tide to play with, and peeling your eyes over the far off waters with innocent hope of seeing a beluga or a Mer swim past. The cries of seagulls and the distant crashing of waves only helped complete the atmosphere, though the cold breeze now carried with it the smell of salt - signaling the imminent return of the high tide - as well as…

Opera?

You opened your eyes, perplexed, then frowned as you strained your ears to listen.

It sounded like someone was playing Pavarotti or Bocelli somewhere in the distance. In the back of your mind, you remembered Cynthia mentioning something about hearing someone singing opera while going out for one of her smokes. You would have dismissed it as a visitor listening to their music a little too loud in the vicinity, but something sounded… __off.__  

To start off, there was no music accompanying the singing, only that beautiful, haunting brass of a voice ringing clearly through the wind. And you did not recognize the melody, despite being acquainted with most of the classic repertoire of opera. You did enjoy classical music, but you were not much of an opera enthusiast; your mother was. What you knew, you knew from her. Moreover, you could not make out the words being sung, it did not sound like any language you were acquainted with.

It did not even sound human.

As soon as your mind registered its own thoughts, you were up on your feet and marching towards the cliff, trying not to start running with the sudden urgency filling you. But the moment you peered over the cliff, the singing abruptly stopped. You tried to catch any movement down in the river, but only saw dark waters lapping at the rocks below and kelp swaying in the currents.

You stayed there longer than you would care to admit, staring out at the sea and straining your ears to hear that sublime voice once more. However, you saw nothing but the river stretching beyond the horizon and the distant shore of the Saint-Barnabé Isle, heard nothing but the whistling of the wind and the crash of the surf.

When the back of your eyes began to protest the strain, you blinked and raised a hand to rub at the bridge of your nose.

Maybe Gala was right after all. You were probably hallucinating things.

After one last glance over the cliff, you turned and headed back to the __Lost Light__.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, 's been a lil while, hasn't it? Updating after a month instead of after a week is a little weird for me after the blitz that was Mermay, but it is a much needed change of pace - because work has been thoroughly kicking my ass. Finding time and energy to write has been rather difficult, in part because of how draining the current situation at my workplace is.
> 
> This chapter is a bit of a short one, but don't worry, the next one is much longer! Hope you've enjoyed this little interlude, and don't be afraid to leave a comment or ask questions!


	8. Chapter 7

You ignored the dull ache in your side. Pipes needed the exercise, and, to be honest, so did you. It had been long enough since your incident that you didn’t really risk tearing anything anymore; these were just your insides being difficult and uncooperative.

Well, _tough._

After your hospital stay, you had to get back in shape eventually. You couldn’t always avoid exercising with the excuse of your injury acting up.

Besides, playing with Pipes and watching them breach out of the water just to tap the ball back in your direction was pretty nice. Was it actually necessary for them to completely breach the water? Not quite, most of the time. Were they showing off? Absolutely. Did you mind it? Not at all.

They were giving you and Gala a pretty good show, and allowing your sister to properly evaluate their physical condition. Which was, all things considered, pretty exceptional. Even if, on the surface, Pipes looked pretty well off compared to some of the other residents of the _Lost Light;_  they only sported a few scars, a couple of gashes running from their arm over part of their chest. The rest of them looked pretty intact.

A shame the inside did not match the outside. Although they could swim properly and were still capable of some rather impressive stunts, Pipes simply wasn’t able to keep up with the pod anymore after they had their chest crushed about a decade ago. Most of their internal organs had suffered only minimal damage - unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for their lungs and gills.

Even if they could still reach breakneck speeds, do triple backflips over the surface and otherwise clown about as most dolphin Merfolk tended to, their stamina had been severely reduced. They just couldn’t take in the necessary oxygen properly anymore. Even though they had been keeping up with your pace for a good half hour by now, you suspected they would soon grow too tired to continue and decide to rest for a while.

This was fine by you. For the sake of having the proper room to allow Pipes to move as much as they wanted, and having some privacy from the other residents during the evaluation, Gala had led all three of you to the Reservoir; a naturally formed cave dug within the cliffs, which was only accessible through the _Lost Light_   _ _-__ or through an underwater passage which led into a small, narrow inlet, flowing from the Saint-Lawrence River through the cliff side. The water filling the Reservoir came from the river itself rather than the Rimouski Marine Wildlife Rehabilitation Center’s systems - which meant that it was absolutely freezing, compared to the pools of the _Lost Light._  

Even if you were wearing the proper insulated wetsuit, it was still uncomfortably cool in the Reservoir’s water, no matter how much you exerted yourself. You were rather looking forward to Pipes wearing themselves out, so you could join your sister on the platform and warm yourself up a little. The ache in your side, you could put up with - but the water’s temperature? Not as much. It was still way too early to swim in the river - not that it ever really got any warmer than this anyway.

Pipes breached the water again with a small laugh, spinning to hit the polo ball with their tail in a manoeuvre that would have made any professional soccer player weep in envy. It made for a good picture, but a rather difficult shot for you to intercept. The ball sailed a handful of feet above your head and crashed right into the billboard by the platform’s edge, behind you. The impact disrupted the papers pinned on the board, one of the documents slipping off to fall in the water below.

“Aw, shoot-!”

Although it had been laminated before being pinned on the board, the laminator was rather old and didn’t always do a good job. Water still seeped through the plastic sometimes if submerged. And even if Gala could just print it again, you doubted she would appreciate the twenty-three pages report that she worked so hard on for Ultra Magnus being ruined; and thus, having to laminate twenty-three more pages.

You swam over by the fallen report, throwing it back on the platform before the water ruined too many pages. However, when you turned back to grab the ball, you noticed a conspicuous lack of dolphin Merfolk.

“... Pipes?”

No answer. The water was suddenly a little too calm, without the Mer racing around and jumping out and about.

You knew Pipes was a little skittish ever since the attack that had left them crippled, but this was ridiculous. It was an accident, no one was going to yell at them for hitting the billboard.

“Pipes! Come on, buddy, everything’s f-”

“___!” Gala hissed your name, finally catching your attention.

You turned to your sister, puzzled by her unexpected urgency.

“Get out of the water. _Now.”_

You stared at her, confused as to why you would suddenly need to leave the water. Pipes was here just a moment ago, what danger could you possibly be in? You wanted to ask, but before you did, you realized that perhaps there was a reason why the Mer suddenly disappeared on you.

As you turned for the nearest way out of the water, you saw the reason for Pipes’ retreat and Gala’s sudden alarm.

A shark.

A _Mer_  shark.

And a _big_  one.

The Lawrencian pod had numerous shark Merfolk into their folds, but the silhouette slithering beneath the surface wasn’t one that either Gala or you recognized. Which was a reasonable cause for concern, as you watched the many dorsal fins glide between you and the nearest ladder – blocking your escape route.

That was... worrisome.

You swallowed with some difficulty, slowly swimming back from the large, scarred fins as they deliberately turned to you. Never before had you really been in a situation where you’d be considered prey, but you figured that was probably what being hunted felt like. You were definitely not a fan of the feeling.

Carefully, you began edging to the side as subtly as you could, hoping to circle around the Mer and make a break for the ladder, all while eyeing the alarmingly sizable shape under the surface. Unfortunately, it seemed like you weren’t as sneaky as you hoped - the shark suddenly veered around, correcting their course to block your path again.

All the while, Gala watched anxiously from the platform, not quite up against the railing as she too kept a safe distance from the Mer. Though you tried to look as calm as possible for her sake, your heart raced uncomfortably hard in your chest. And knowing the sharp senses of shark Merfolk, no doubt they felt it too, through the vibrations in the water. Knowing as such didn’t help with keeping your composure, which was exactly what you needed to keep when faced with an unfamiliar Mer. But how could you even hide panic from a creature designed to detect the faintest hints of fear from their surroundings?

Your heart leaped in your throat as you felt your back hit the cave wall, watching the fins draw ever closer at a leisurely pace - with all the confidence of a seasoned predator knowing their quarry is trapped. Beyond the approaching Mer, Gala suddenly turned and disappeared beyond your line of sight. She probably lacked the strength to watch whatever fate the Mer had in store for you; not that you could blame her. You weren’t sure you would have it in you either to watch your sister get eaten alive.

The distance between the two of you closed, the Mer finally revealed themselves, their upper body breaching the surface. And you were unexpectedly glad that Gala wasn’t watching anymore, so she wouldn’t see the terror take over your expression.

_Piercing ruby eyes. Gleaming teeth.  Wicked talons._

You were suddenly, inexplicably face to face with the Mer who haunted your nightmares over the past couple of weeks. Even if it had been black as coal underwater, even if you had been distracted by the desperate urge to breathe, you could never forget the blood red glare before you.

They had returned to finish the job.

And seeing them now, in the light? Did not do anything to make them appear any less intimidating. Instead, you could now observe every single painfully earned scar on their powerful body, most noticeably, the broken horn on their head. The darkness of that night had actually concealed much of their mass from your sight, hiding a Mer with an even larger constitution than Chromedome’s. If you had ever had any hope of fighting your way free from them and flee, you did not have any such delusions now. Their torso alone dwarfed your entire body.

However, as seconds stretched into moments, and that no aggression came your way, you unwittingly began to ease down a little. The glowering did not stop, but the Mer made no move to attack you; unlike your first meeting – the scabs on your shoulders were only just beginning to loosen and fall off.

Amazingly, you managed not to flinch as the Mer carefully raised a clawed hand out of the water.

“Don’t touch them!”

Your attention snapped to your sister, as did the Mer’s.

“Gala-!”

You’d meant to say more, but your voice caught in your throat before you could do more than call her name. Your sister had returned, but she now held one of the center’s tranquilizer rifles, trained right at the shark’s back. She took aim with frightening confidence, a growl in her voice.

“Let my sibling go and move away from them. _Slowly._ ”

Surprisingly, you weren’t frightened as much from the rifle than the cold glare in your older sister’s eyes. Never in all of your life, through all the times you’d fought, had you seen Gala looking so goddamn _terrifying._ You almost didn’t notice the way the rifle shook nearly imperceptibly with her hands.

It seemed like the Mer had not missed this detail either, staring her down over their shoulder with unwavering poise. Gala’s scowl hardened, and she cocked the hammer, ready to fire.

“Move away from them. I won’t warn you again.”

“Gala, stop! It’s them!”

You weren’t sure any sound had left you at first, despite the echoes in the cavern, seeing how neither Mer nor human moved an inch. Eventually, your sister spoke up, still aiming at the intruder.

“What do you mean, _it’s them?”_

“Them! The purple Mer! The other one from that night!”

You were rather frantic by now – the presence of fire arms always fed into your anxiety – but also desperate to defuse the situation before Gala provoked the Mer into action. The tranquilizer darts were potent enough to put down an elephant, but you still didn’t want to find out how much damage the Mer could do to you before they finally passed out.

Gala hesitated. Only slightly, barely lowering the rifle as she broke eye contact with the Mer to glance at you.

It was more than enough for the Mer, who grabbed your arm – nearly engulfing your entire forearm in their hand – then began swimming towards the other end of the Reservoir. You followed; even if you had struggled, you would not have been able to escape their iron grip. They dragged you along, glowering defiance at your sister even as she fearfully followed their movements with the rifle.

“It’s okay, Gala! It’s gonna be fine, see? They’re not hurting me! I’ll be okay! I- I think-”

You didn’t get to finish your thoughts. The Mer suddenly dove down beneath the surface, your quick reflexes allowing you only a short breath of air before you were forced to follow them underwater.

 

* * *

 

 

The underwater passage was a lot deeper, and longer than you’d anticipated. You had kept up well enough with the brisk pace the Mer had set at first, but as the dive stretched on, you began lagging behind. All the previous exercise with Pipes had left your side aching, and your lungs were increasingly burning with the need for fresh air. Before you even began struggling to kick your feet, your inhuman guide accelerated, pulling you along towards the surface.

As soon as your head broke the surface, you noisily breathed in as much air as you could, noticing the hints of salt and kelp in the air.

You were now outside the Reservoir, in the small canyon years of erosion dug into the cliff side. The wind whistled through the passage, carrying with it echoes of distant boat engines rumbling and moaning seagulls.

The Mer barely gave you a few breaths’ time to recover before continuing their journey, dragging you along once more. Your shoulder hurt by now and you were a little irked by their silent, demanding treatment; if they just let go of your arm, you would have been able to swim properly and follow them without any problem.

“Your need for air is even worse than last time,” they finally remarked.

The deep baritone of their voice made you pause, enough that you had barely registered what they said at first. Why was their voice so… familiar? You had never spoken to the Mer before, and only met them once. You didn’t even recognize the distinctively English accent to their French, only the tone; that melodious tone...

When you finally registered their comment, you retorted without thinking.

“You almost _drowned_  me, last time.”

You shut your mouth immediately after, staring anxiously at the back of their head while they effortlessly undulated through the incoming current. However, the shark did not do any more than let out a quiet, derisive snort in reply.

They stopped near the entrance of the inlet, finally letting your arm go so you could climb on a fallen boulder to rest. Though you suspected your shoulder would be sore for the coming days, at least they didn’t tear the suit with their impressive talons; nor did they leave any new gashes in your skin.

The Mer observed you for a moment, impassive and dour as ever, as you shivered under their gaze. The breeze was freezing, but with the sun bearing down as it did, your suit would dry in very little time, hopefully.

“Feisty little thing, isn’t she?”

You blinked at them, rubbing your arms for warmth.

“Your littermate,” they added, in response to your obvious confusion.

“Oh. Galadriel has always been… a little trigger-happy.”

It was now the Mer’s turn to be confused it seemed, as they stared at you.

“… Galadriel?”

“Yeah, odd name, I know. Our mother is a huge fan of the _Lord of the Rings_ , and Galadriel was always her favourite.”

Their nasal ridge crinkled, their scowl deepening.

“Who is this... lord of the rings?”

“Uh… Never you mind that, actually,” you corrected the course of the conversation, crossing your arms over your chest as you curled up slightly over your knees. “In fact, why are we here?”

“We need to talk.” The Mer replied, without missing a beat.

You held back a sigh, stopping yourself from muttering under your breath. _That, we do…_

“About what?”

“About _whom,_ ” they corrected you.

“And you needed to drag me all the way out there for that? Why couldn’t we talk back there?”

“With your littermate waving that infernal device around like a Merpup’s toy? No. Moreover, I do not trust her.”

Despite yourself, you thought back on your first meeting, when the Mer had practically drowned and torn you apart. You narrowed your eyes slightly at them, skepticism tainting your tone.

“But you trust _me?”_

“Ultra Magnus has since informed me that you are the one who rescued Tailgate. You get _the benefit of the doubt,”_ they corrected you once more.

Something almost audibly clicked in your mind at the mention of the white Mer. The pair was together on that fateful night. The purple Mer is speaking of Tailgate, and Tailgate wishes to speak to a certain Cyclone. Could it be?

“Hang on. Hang on a second... Are _you_  Cyclone?”

They paused, eyeing you with something of a suspicious look.

“ _Cyclonus._  I see you’ve successfully spoken with Tailgate.”

“It took a while, but yes.”

“Good. I had some concerns about communication. They have yet to learn the local dialects. Is there a Mer in the facility who speaks the Northeastern Atlantic dialect?”

“Err... No.”

Cyclonus blinked. You’d gotten used to the way the pale, translucent skin wrapped over Merfolk’s eyes due to all the time you’d spent with Swerve, but the measured pace at which the purple Mer blinked only made their gaze even more unnerving.

“Nordic Seas dialect?”

“Nope.”

“Upper Mediterranean?”

You shook your head, unable to break eye contact with them while doing so.

“... Then how-?”

“We, uh, accidentally discovered that they speak Spanish.”

They stared at you speechless, for a while. Then, frowning, they hummed in a way that sounded none-too-pleased. You were getting the feeling that they didn’t consider that outcome ideal.

“Hrmm. Your human languages are inefficient. It would be better for Tailgate if they could speak their native tongue.”

You took in a deep breath, closing your eyes while doing so.

“Look. We’re doing the best we can for your child with what we have, which isn’t much.”

The following silence confused you, and you opened your eyes to find Cyclonus staring at you, looking quite bewildered.

“... What?”

“What did you call Tailgate?”

You hesitated, scrambling to remember the exact words you said. You didn’t remember saying anything that could be considered offensive.

“Er... Your child?”

The Mer blinked a few times, then spoke, sounding astounded.

“They are not my child - they are my _amica._  Tailgate is older than I am.”

You did a double take.

“Wait, _what?”_

“Tailgate is my elder. I thought that was obvious.”

It was your turn now to stare incredulously at them. _Obvious?_ Tailgate, the doe eyed, chubby cheeked Mer? Tailgate, the panicky, nervous little hand-wringer, full of youthful innocence? Tailgate looked like a _toddler_ next to the hulking menace in front of you. Either the little Mer had the worst case of baby face you’d ever seen, or...

“... You’re pulling my leg, right?”

Cyclonus didn’t answer, staring at you a little longer before confusedly glancing down at your legs, then their hands.

“It’s- it’s just a saying. I meant that you’re joking. Right? You’re just messing with me? There’s just no way Tailgate...” You trailed off, distracted by the blank expression on the Mer’s face.

Damn. Tailgate apparently _was_  that old. Your head spun a little with the revelation; it seemed that you didn’t know half as much as you thought you did about Merfolk physiology.

Cyclonus’ surly glowering returned, gazing down their nose at you.

“If you could not tell as much, then I question the quality of the care they’re receiving.”

You couldn’t help but bristle lightly at the comment.

“Well, in my defense, I’m not the medic, Gala is.”

“And she couldn’t tell either?”

You deflated slightly.

“She, uh... She wasn’t sure.”

More glowering. You were growing increasingly uncomfortable with the constant glaring, and beginning to wish you were anywhere but here alone with the Mer who nearly killed you scowling at you.

“Listen, we could have known all of this, Tailgate’s name, their preferred language, their age, everything, if you’d just _told_ us about it. But you were nowhere to be found. None of you were. The whole pod all but disappeared from the map altogether, so we had to manage the best that we could without any information about them. Where are you all hiding anyway? Why wait weeks before showing up?”

Cyclonus snarled, a low growl rumbling from deep within, their lips parting to reveal razor sharp teeth. You gulped, realizing that by neglecting to watch the frustration in your voice, your own questions may have sounded accusatory to the Mer. That was far from having been your intention. However, to your surprise, they soon quieted down, regaining some composure and what _almost_  seemed to be an apologetic demeanor.

“It was... not my decision. We were to keep our distance from humans and avoid all contact.”

You blinked, processing their reply.

“... Ultra Magnus’ orders?”

The Mer nodded, their ruby eyes burning with unspoken grievance. If you had been forbidden by your superior to make contact with the people who held someone dear to you in their custody, you probably would have been rather vexed too.

“But... Why?”

They regarded you for a moment, apparently silently debating with themselves before answering.

“It is not my place to tell.”

You found yourself sighing, feeling somewhat exasperated with these non-answers.

“Let me guess – Also Ultra Magnus’ orders.”

Another nod.

Great. So the pod was purposely avoiding the _Lost Light_  and everyone there, for some top secret reason no one would mention. Just what the heck was going on out there? Why was Ultra Magnus giving out these kind of orders, especially as one of their own was currently in the care of humans? At least, that sort of explained why it seemed like Magnus only showed up in the middle of the night to read Gala’s reports.

You looked up as Cyclonus rested their hands by your feet, looming over your perch with a sudden intensity in their glare.

“But I am here now. I need to see Tailgate. You need to let me inside.”

Their face was a little too close for your comfort, and you leaned back as you swallowed your unease. You really didn’t look forward to saying what you were about to say.

“I- Sure, I’d, I’d _love_  to, but- You can’t see Tailgate.”

Augh, there they were, those terrifying, gleaming teeth. And with the Mer so close, the air vibrated thickly with the power of their growl.

_“Why not.”_

It wasn’t a question, but a threat.

“It’s not what you think!” You rushed to explain, forcing yourself not to scramble back from the intimidating display. “Tailgate’s sick, they’re in quarantine. Their immune system is weakened and they need to avoid contact with any possible source of pathogens.”

You had hoped that your explanation would have placated them, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. They leaned in more, and this time, you could not help but crawl back a little to preserve what little personal space you had left.

“All the more the reason to let me see them. If they are sick-”

“Then you need to keep your distance until they recover. They are already fighting one infection, which means they are vulnerable to any other pathogens other Merfolk may be carrying - especially one coming straight out of the wilderness.”

Cyclonus still loomed over you, but your words finally seemed to have the intended effect. The low rumbling puttered out, and their glowering stopped, their eyes momentarily betraying the conflict inside. Sensing the opening, you continued, picking your words carefully and keeping your tone gentle.

“We could let you inside if you like. Not to see Tailgate, as I already explained, but for those,” you said, gesturing with a hand at the gashes running down from the Mer’s eyes. They looked fresh and tender, and quite swollen. “We can arrange something with Ultra Magnus, for you to stay temporarily while those heal. And when Tailgate finally feels better, you’ll be right there with them.”

For a moment, it seemed like they were considering the option you’d offered them. You allowed yourself to show a smile, even if it was a nervous one. But their eyes hardened once more, and they shoved your hand aside with the back of theirs.

“We have our own medics, I do not require the care of humans. I cannot stay at your _Lost Light.”_

You blinked, pulling your hand back to yourself. Something about what they said bothered you, and it wasn’t the trace of contempt which had laced the way they said _humans._

_“Cannot?”_

They leaned back, sneering, but the expression was lackluster.

“I meant ‘shall not’.”

Yeah, that did not fool you one bit. You quirked a brow at them, piecing together the situation.

“... You’re not supposed to be here, aren’t you? Ultra Magnus’ orders still stand, and you’re disobeying them.”

You couldn’t help but find the expression on Cyclonus’ face rather amusing. To their credit, they made a valiant effort of keeping up the sneer. Unfortunately for them, they mostly looked mightily embarrassed by now, like a child caught elbow deep in the cookie jar. You had to remind yourself of how easily the Mer could tear your head off to keep a straight face.

“Don’t worry - I’m not a tattletale. I won’t tell anyone. And I’ll make sure no one mentions this to Ultra Magnus either.”

The shark rumbled a short, quiet growl, then grumbled through their teeth.

“You had better not. You already got Tailgate into this mess, you will not drag me along.”

You almost ignored the second part, until you realized what the Mer implied.

“... Wait, what do you mean, _I_ got Tailgate into this mess? I saved them from the poachers-”

“Yes, and don’t you feel _so_ special because of that.” Though they spoke with the same subdued, controlled tone as ever, there was an edge to their words which cut unexpectedly deep. “Little human saves a Mer from their fellow humans. How _delightful._  Never mind the fact that if it weren’t for that particular little human and their music, Tailgate wouldn’t have gotten captured in the first place.”

You blinked stupidly at that, slightly slack jawed. You had no idea what the Mer was on about, and still, you couldn’t help the cool prickling sensation gathering behind your neck.

“My music..? What does my music have to do with... What music?” You couldn’t finish a full sentence, distracted as you were by the many questions bouncing around in your head.

The Mer glared at you for a moment, slitted eyes piercing through you, then spoke.

“One evening, you took your boat out over the river. We were nearby, hunting, and heard you play your music. Tailgate was… instantaneously mesmerized by it, for some reason.”

Cyclonus didn’t sound enamored at all. But at least, you now had an idea of what they were talking about: sometimes, when you needed some time alone, away from Gala or Swerve and everyone else, you took your boat out to sea. There, with nothing but the wind and the water lapping at the flanks of your ship to break the silence, you threw down the anchor and grabbed your guitar or your laptop - alone in the middle of the river, you could play and sing to your heart’s content without anyone being privy to your fancies, or you could also work on your own compositions in peace.

These were quiet, intimate moments you kept for yourself, moments you used to ground yourself during difficult periods. Realizing that you were not as alone as you thought you were during those instants left you feeling quite odd. Though you were a little peeved with the knowledge that you were being spied on during those private sessions, you couldn’t really fault them for listening in - the river was their home after all, _you_  were the one encroaching on their territory. And as crossed as you wanted to be, you couldn’t help but think about how, apparently, Tailgate _liked_ your music.

“I... I thought I was alone.”

Cyclonus snorted, then continued their explanation.

“I did warn them. I warned them about humans, about the dangers of making yourself predictable. A predictable Mer is a vulnerable Mer in this world. Yet, despite my warnings and Magnus’ orders, Tailgate continued to sneak away from the pod to seek you out whenever they saw your boat out at sea. They wanted to hear more of your music, so they started following you around. I’m surprised you’ve never noticed them. They don’t exactly _blend in._ ”

They suddenly turned away, sharp eyes glaring at distant ships gliding over the river.

“Those hunters certainly did notice.”

As realization set in, you felt your heart drop like a rock through your guts. And though your suit was beginning to dry, you never felt as cold as you did now.

_It wasn’t a coincidence._

The poachers being out that evening, Tailgate’s capture... It wasn’t a case of you being at the right place at the right moment - the capture happened _precisely_  because you were out there that evening. You’d been the poacher’s _lure._

The rock in the pit of your stomach turned to an acidic heat. You felt like you were going to be sick.

“I had no idea...”

It all made perfect sense now. The reason why Tailgate recognized you so easily, and why they came to trust you so quickly. Why they looked so betrayed the moment you gave them something, anything to make them doubt your true intentions.

Cyclonus said nothing, but their eyes never left you as you took in the implications; observing, calculating, judging your reaction.

“It was because of me,” you finally concluded, staring at the space between your feet. “Tailgate got captured and sick because of me.”

Hearing nothing in reply but the wind whistling through the inlet, you eventually looked up to Cyclonus, sheepish. However, they glanced away, avoiding eye contact as they squinted at the horizon. No, actually, not squinted. It almost seemed like their lower eyelids were trembling, so subtle you could barely catch it. Those gashes looked _really_  tender, they must hurt.

“Cyclonus, I... I can’t fault you for blaming me for what happened to Tailgate. I can’t fix it, and I can’t let you in to see Tailgate either. But, there’s still some way you could help.”

That got their attention. The Mer turned slightly to you, staring down at you out of the corner of their eyes.

“The thing is, Tailgate is dying to see you, and I wish I could say only metaphorically so. I don’t think they trust us at the _Lost Light_  anymore. When they asked if they could go back to the pod after healing, I hesitated. I hesitated too long and now I fear they think they did get caught, but by traffickers instead. They won’t eat, and they won’t take their medication anymore. They keep asking for you, instead.”

Cyclonus stared at you in silence for a little while longer, however you were glad to see the glowering gone.

“So. How may I help them?”

“Teach me something. Teach me something only you know.”

Their eyes narrowed, in suspicion mostly, and they backed away from your perch.

“How will _that_  help?”

“Hang on, hear me out. We need to reassure Tailgate before... before too much damage is done. They need to feel safe. And I think the next best thing, short of letting you see them, is to bring them proof that we’ve been in contact with you. That _you_  feel they’re safe with us.”

“Are they _really_ though?”

You couldn’t stop the frustrated sigh slipping out of you.

“Just, please work with me, Cyclonus. For Tailgate’s sake.”

For the first time, the Mer sighed, catching you by surprise.

“Alright. Fine.” They relented.

You perked up a little, encouraged by the shark’s cooperation and with finally finding some little ray of hope for Tailgate.

“There is this... song, which they appreciate. A traditional Northeastern Atlantic hymn.” They paused, eyeing you with something of skepticism. “I doubt human voice boxes are sufficiently developed to replicate the more sophisticated elements of this melody. But, yours _may_  be able to perform an... intelligible approximation.”

Glad as you were to finally be getting somewhere in this matter, you elected to ignore the Mer’s comments, instead nodding and gesturing for them to go on. They seemed to hesitate, only for a fraction of a second, then with an air of solemn resignation, began to sign.

And, belatedly, as the air and your heart positively shook with the power of Cyclonus’ voice, you understood why the Mer’s voice was familiar. You stared at them, dumbstruck, as you recognized the mysterious opera singer from the other day, the one you were convinced you had hallucinated. You were still gawking at them when they stopped mid-song, staring expectantly at you. It took you a little too long to notice that they were waiting on you to try and replicate what they’d just sung, and you spoke up timidly as they rubbed their eyes with clawed fingers.

“Uh, hang on. It goes, er, something like this..?”

You had sung barely three notes that Cyclonus interrupted you and corrected you. It was after you had attempted thrice to correct yourself only to be immediately interrupted again by the Mer and surly chastised, that you realized this would be a very long day. They would not let you go any time soon.

You should have brought snacks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have no idea how much I struggled to write this chapter. I have spent an ungodly amount of time simply staring at the document, just struggling to find words to write with. I have completed the chapter only an hour ago. And yet, this was one of the first chapters I had planned for this story, if not the very first. I was so excited to reach this point in the story. 
> 
> _Hah._
> 
> I am so very glad to be done with it though, and I am somewhat satisfied with the outcome, so, I hope you guys enjoyed it at least! There is one more plot chapter (maybe two, I'll figure it out) planned out, and then I will change up the formula a bit - afterwards, you - the readers - will get to choose which character gets spotlighted in each of the several next chapters! Don't worry, I do have an overarching plot and several more chapters planned, but I want to give you all the opportunity to read about your favourite characters, before the plot advances!
> 
> I'll post more details with the next chapter, so in the meanwhile, think about which character you'd like to see in the coming chapters, and please do let me know what you think of the story so far! Kudos and comments are appreciated so much, they let me know you're still reading! 
> 
> You can find Cyclonus' design [here.](https://pillowfortmedia.s3.amazonaws.com/posts/0bbc77fe2342_mer_cyclonus.png)
> 
>  ** _EDIT (2019/06/08):_** Err, somehow, the formatting of this chapter got effed up during the upload, so I've gone back and edited it back. Sorry it took this long to notice, I uploaded the chapter in a rush because I was leaving for a a couple of days on a camping trip the next morning.
> 
> Actually, let's give details on the voting for the next couple of chapters! 
> 
> I'm a weak person who loves every character too much, so no one died in this AU - meaning you can request any character having shown up in the Lost Light's adventures, any season of MTMTE or LL! Every requested character will get a chapter of their own (unless for some reason, I feel like two characters could fit well in the same chapter), but if a character gets requested by multiple people, that chapter might be written earlier than others. You can request characters which haven't shown up yet, or that have already appeared in the story.
> 
> The _only_ exceptions to that rule are some of the villains - Overlord and the DJD mainly, as they would most likely hijack the story if I did write about them (sorry!) - and the Scavengers. (Don't worry, I _will_ write about the Scavengers! I just already have something planned for them later on ;) )
> 
> If you aren't sure whether a character you want to see fits these criterias, feel free to request them anyway, and I'll see if I can fit them in!


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little trigger warning: there are mentions of injuries, deaths and a brief mention of attempted suicide in this chapter. Proceed with caution.

“So let me get this straight: Cyclonus came all this way to... teach you a song?”

You laughed at Swerve’s question, although you weren’t all that amused at the memory.

“ _Hah,_  not quite. I don’t think that was part of their initial plans.”

It had been a long day at Cyclonus’ mercy, singing your throat raw without so much of a break to learn the hymn Tailgate loved. The shark would not allow anything less than perfection; a standard almost impossible to meet without the complex vocal apparatus of a Mer. Finally, as the sun hung low over the Saint-Lawrence Bay, you’d achieved what the purple Mer called an “intelligible approximation”, and they’d escorted you back to the Reservoir, cold and tired.

At least you hadn’t been too hungry nor thirsty - after you’d disappeared with your unexpected guest/torturer, Gala had torn down Heaven and Earth to find you. As flattered as you were by your sister’s concern for you, you did wish she hadn’t roped in half the _Lost Light_  staff in an improvised search & rescue operation. You couldn’t really fault her for not believing your hasty assurances, being dragged away as you were by a shark Mer - but the _Lost Light_  could not spare anyone for an unnecessary rescue mission. Thankfully, it was a short-lived operation - Cynthia recognized the Mer’s singing, and zeroed in on the source in record time. Cyclonus had been less than amused at being barged on and interrupted by a bunch of panicked humans. You, on the other hand, had been more than grateful for the food and water your sister’s colleagues dropped down the cliff for you.

Reassured at last that the Mer truly didn’t mean you any harm, Gala had called off the rescue party at your own request, and left you to finish your lesson with the Mer. That didn’t stop her from smothering you the minute you reappeared at the Reservoir, examining you for injuries and asking you a million questions you didn’t really want to answer at that moment, as you were thinking only of a dry, warm bed. But there was one thing you had to do first, and after making Gala promise to not tell Ultra Magnus about Cyclonus’ visit - and to make the rest of the staff promise the same - you excused yourself and made a beeline for Tailgate’s room.

“And, what about Tailgate? How did they take it?”

“Well...” You hesitated, searching for the right words.

It was... difficult to describe Tailgate’s reaction. Something of befuddlement at first. You’d wondered for a moment if you’d butchered the song as badly as Cyclonus seemed to think, before the Mer all but fell in your arms, large dollops of mucous tears staining your wetsuit on your shoulder. You had let them cling to you with all the grace of a fish out of the water, sitting stiffly in the pool as Tailgate wailed against you. You’d also ignored the claws digging through your suit, scratching at your arms, as you awkwardly patted their back while staring around for something to help you out of this situation.

Not that you weren’t relieved to see Tailgate finally expressing some emotion other than quiet and forlorn misery - you just hadn’t expected that emotion to be _loud anguish_ , and so you were completely unprepared to comfort them. Moreover, there was an insistent thought nagging at the back of your mind, distracting you from your uneasy attempts at comforting the Mer.

_This is all my fault._

The guilt had fought for your attention, bubbling back to the surface no matter how much you tried to push it away - unrelenting, like oil on water. All that had happened to Tailgate, it had happened because of you. If it weren’t for you, Tailgate would still be by their amica’s side, happy and healthy.

The Mer must have had sensed your unease, as the sobs wracking their body quietened to hiccups, and they slowly looked up to you with those large, teary eyes. That was more than you could bear, and so you’d confessed everything to them. The words spilled out of you, awkward and foreign in your mouth as you tripped over the language barrier. You’d told them to the best of your abilities about your meeting with Cyclonus, your conversation, and how eager they had been to see Tailgate. And though you couldn’t really bring yourself to tell them how Cyclonus had blamed you for what happened - and rightly so in your opinion - you’d found yourself apologizing to them, again and again, for all the pain you had put them through.

“Lo siento, Tailgate... Todo es mi culpa,” you’d finally croaked out, your voice cracking from exhaustion.

But they’d only stared at you with an unrecognizable look in their eyes, an unusual thing for such an expressive Mer, before patting your cheek with surprising vigor.

“No digáis estupideces.”

You’d blinked at them at first, baffled by their reaction, but then found yourself laughing weakly despite yourself. This was probably the closest you were going to get to forgiveness from the Mer, for now. At least, they weren’t weeping anymore, and that was enough for you.

After getting someone of the night shift to bring Tailgate some food and medication, you’d finally wobbled to the staff room and collapsed on the couch for the night - rock-hard frame be damned. You’d even turned down Gala’s offer to drive you home, too exhausted to even get changed out of your wetsuit and walk to the car. Not long after your sister left, you’d passed out for the night.

Now, as you sat on the edge of the platform in the Reservoir, staring down at the red beluga in the water, you struggled to explain last night’s events, even to yourself. Gala spoke up instead, answering for you.

“They must have taken it well, because this morning they were chomping down on that lobster like there’d be no tomorrow. Even took their medication without making a fuss.”

“That’s great, then! Excellent news!” Swerve grinned up at you, giving you two thumbs-up the moment Gala turned away to pin another report on the billboard, exaggeratedly mouthing the words _‘good job'_.

Normally, you would have shared your friend’s enthusiasm for a job well done. Except you couldn’t bring yourself to feel like you deserved any praise for this; Cyclonus’ accusations remained in your mind, sharp as their talons.

You tried to at least give Swerve a smile before he would start worrying, but you must have come across as painfully constipated instead, judging by his concerned expression.

“Uh, everything okay, buddy?”

“Hum.” You became faintly aware of Gala’s attention turning to you, out of the corner of your eyes, and you scrambled for an answer. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just... sore.”

As if to emphasize your point, you joined your hands behind your head and straightened up to stretch; your back helpfully cracked with a loud pop in response and you groaned, further selling your excuse.

Your sister rolled her eyes, turning back to the board to sort out through the files pinned there.

“Told you you’d be sore come morning. You should have come back home with me, instead of staying on that pathetic excuse of a couch.”

“I’d have passed out in the car long before reaching your house. And then you and Jé would have had to carry me to bed. _Nah._  Besides, my car would have stayed here and I would have had to drive back here with you. No thanks.”

Gala turned to pin you with a glare, resting her fists on her hips.

“Something wrong with my driving, then?” She challenged, and you gulped uneasily. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw Swerve sink slightly into the water.

“N-no! Not at all, you just- you leave for work so early in the morning and-”

But Gala cut you off with a laugh, walking over to tousle your hair.

“Hah! You should have seen your face. I got what you meant, ___. I was just kidding.” Her grin took on a subtle malicious glint, and she started rubbing your head a little more viciously. “Just kidding, _right?”_

“Augh!” You ducked and rolled away from your sister’s hand, ignoring Swerve’s quiet cackling as you leveled her with your own glare, now on all fours. “If I develop a bald spot in a couple of years, I’m blaming you and Swerve,” you grumbled as you rubbed your head, and the Mer’s cackles turned to open laughter.

“Blame them for what?”

The gravelly baritone of a voice had barely finished talking that you were up on your feet, standing at attention before you could even think about it. Swerve’s laughter died suddenly with a strangled squeak, and beside you, Gala swiftly turned around to look beyond your shoulder. You’d only heard that voice once before - on the night you’d almost drowned in the river. It was the voice of your savior.

Awkwardly, you shuffled around until a humongous hill of blue, red and white entered your vision.

“Ultra Magnus, sir!” Gala exclaimed beside you.

“Mags! You’re alive!”

You tried greeting the Mer too, but the words died in your throat, and instead came out a noise much like a frog’s dying, squeaky croak. As you mentally berated yourself, you felt Gala and Swerve’s attention back on you, curious and silently amused.

It was simply very hard not to be intimidated by the colossus having just appeared by the platform. Their immense presence made everything suddenly look and feel smaller, yourself included. Your sister and your beluga friend were used to the imposing size of the whale Mer, having known them for a long time; you, on the other hand, were meeting them properly for the very first time. Yes, you’d seen pictures of the fabled Lawrencian pod delegate before - many, in fact - but pictures simply did not do the Mer’s sheer presence justice. And you did not have the presence of mind while drowning to really take it in either.

Palms the size of your entire head came to rest on the platform, propping up the upper half of their body out of the water so they could better loom over you and your sister. As electric blue eyes settled down over you, you felt the tips of your fingers grow numb, and a familiar ache twinged in your healing side. When goosebumps began prickling on your skin, you suddenly glanced down, unable to gaze any longer at the Mer’s intense eyes; it reminded you in vivid details the agony of freezing saltwater into your bleeding wounds.

As if sensing your discomfort, the Mer turned to Swerve instead, sternly lecturing the small beluga with exasperation which betrayed the regularity of such lectures.

“My designation is not _Mags,_  Swerve. Shortening a superior’s name is-”

“Technically an offense.” Swerve finished, seeming to deflate slightly, if only for a moment. “Understood, Ultra Magnus...” A moment of silence, then, _“... sir,”_  he finally added, after the larger Mer gave him a pointed look.

With that issue addressed and corrected, you felt more than you saw the delegate’s attention turn back to you, busy as you were pretending that the random paint stain on the platform’s floor bothered you more than it actually did. You tried not to think of how you were wearing the same clothes as yesterday and rather needed a proper shower.

“___. I am relieved to see you recovering from your injuries. You seem to be healing properly.”

With the Mer addressing you directly, you couldn’t continue to avoid looking at them without risking offending them. You hesitantly glanced up, and up, until you finally met their eyes, ignoring the cool prickles in your side as you willed your voice to cooperate with you.

“In no small part thanks to you, sir.”

As excruciating as Ultra Magnus’ fingers pressing into your open wound had been back then, no doubt you would have reached the hospital in a much worse condition had they not ignored your obvious pain. You were bleeding rather profusely and the pressure they kept on your gaping gunshot wound, although agonizing, had slowed the bleeding quite efficiently - long enough for the first responders to arrive to the scene and take over.

For that alone, you had no doubt that you owed the Mer delegate your life.

Your reply seemed to satisfy Ultra Magnus, who acknowledged your unspoken gratitude with a curt nod of their head before turning their attention to your sister. You tried not to sag too much in obvious relief as the electric blue eyes found someone else to bore into.

“Galadriel. I will require a detailed report of the past month’s activities within the Lost Light.”

Unlike you, your sister seemed completely unfazed by being the center of Magnus’ attention, casually pointing to the many documents pinned on the board with a thumb.

“All on there, sir. As you already know, seeing as you signed off most of them.”

“True. However, I was hoping for a personal debrief.”

If the Mer noticed the slight twitch in Gala’s lower eyelid like you did, they gave no sign of it. You’d heard of Magnus’ “personal debriefs” before, _extensively_  so, during some of your sister’s many characteristic rants. “Lasting lengths of time only measurable in eternities”, “brain-melting” and “sadistic exercises of a bureaucratic zealot” being choice words which came to mind when recalling those rants.

However, before she could even answer, Swerve - either in a show of complete obliviousness or demonstrating his genial abilities to read the room and act accordingly - spoke up in her stead.

“Oh, you didn’t actually miss much, Mags- _sir._  Just as in the reports, it’s just the same old as always up there. Well, except for Tailgate and for their... uh...” The Mer trailed off slowly, as if realizing something.

Perhaps that realization came from the intense stare you were giving him, willing all of your being to wordlessly scream at him to just _shut up._  Or perhaps it came from how your sister started sharply gesturing with a hand in front of her throat to cut it out. Either way, his blabbering puttered out, despite Magnus’ inquisitive quirk of a brow. Both you and your sister scrambled to act disinterested when the large Mer glanced your way, before looking back to the small beluga.

“And?” They asked, not one to let information stay buried.

If Merfolk could sweat, you had no doubt your poor friend would be. His usually pale, white face was beginning to take on colour, constellations of pink doting his cheeks.

“And, uh... I...” He floundered, words mumbled so quietly they barely left his lips.

Magnus’ eyes narrowed and they repeated themselves, their question becoming a demand.

“ _And?”_

Ultra Magnus’ full attention turned on the beluga, bearing down the entire weight of their authority unto the smaller Mer. You almost felt sorry for him. _Almost._  He did nearly just blab about Cyclonus’ visit to the _one_  Mer you had only just made him promise _not_  to blab to.

And there was still no guarantee that he wouldn’t crack under the pressure Magnus was putting on him. Though Swerve was so very loyal to you and your sister, and all the humans caring for him at the _Lost Light,_  you knew this was putting him in a very uncomfortable situation.

He’d been putting a lot of effort in lately to prove himself to the Lawrencian pod, in a bid to eventually be accepted into the pod and live amongst “his own kind”. Though the powers-that-be in the Lawrencian pod raised some good concerns about the risks and obstacles to Swerve’s integration into their ranks, it seemed that the Mer remained obstinately optimistic, stubbornly insisting on proving himself. And now, he was being torn between his loyalties to you, and his need to prove himself a good potential pod member.

The pressure and internal warring was beginning to get at the Mer’s barely held-together composure; he was bug-eyed and red-faced by now, as if about to physically explode with the sheer need to _talk,_  despite you and your sister’s silent pleas to keep his promise.

Finally, as Magnus further glowered over him, he cracked, the words tumbling out of his mouth in one single high-pitched whine.

 _“And___istryingtolandajobhereintheLostLight!”_  

Your own eyes bugged out of your head, a different kind of betrayal punching you in the guts.

 _“Swerve!”_  You all but shouted.

“___?!” Gala cried out, stunned.

“I’msorry!” Swerve squeaked.

Magnus for all their imposing character, looked rather helpless as they stared between you, your sister and your friend as you all yelled at each other in turn. You ignored their obvious confusion in favor of drilling Swerve with a scowl that would have made Cyclonus proud.

“Wait,” Gala spoke up soon enough, piecing things together with the speed only an older sister smelling shenanigans could achieve. “Is _that_  what you and Swerve were up to all this time?”

You decided not to answer that, finally letting Swerve off and turning to avoid Gala’s seeking eyes. You were too angry to risk saying anything, in case you might regret doing so later. However, Ultra Magnus’ eyes were much harder to avoid, as they lowered themselves a little closer to your height.

“Is what Swerve said true, ___?”

It was hard to read the Mer’s expression, which made it all the more difficult for you to come up with a suitable reply. Gala had once described Magnus as stony, and you now found that the descriptor fit them perfectly. Though their body language could sometimes betray them, their face seemed set in stone indeed.

You considered your answer carefully before sighing and rubbing your face with a hand, looking anywhere but into those electric blue eyes.

“I just... I feel responsible of Tailgate’s recovery. That’s _all.”_  You emphasized the last part, glaring slightly in Swerve’s direction - although you already felt your temper grow brittle when he meekly sunk into the water, avoiding eye contact.

Ultra Magnus considered you for a little while longer, apparently deep in thought before straightening with a non-committed hum.

“I see.”

The delegate turned to your sister, nodding once.

“I would have this personal debrief now, Galadriel.”

“Right.” Gala answered with her own nod.

“Swerve, if you would please allow us some space.” Magnus addressed the smaller Mer.

You knew your anger truly had gotten under your friend’s skin when he did not even protest nor try to nosy his way into a private meeting.

“Yes, sir,” he simply muttered, almost quiet as a whisper, before slinking around the large whale towards the tunnels that would take him back inside the facility.

You began to follow him, expecting to be ushered out too, before an impossibly large white hand blocked your path.

“Not you, ___.”

You turned towards the large Mer, puzzled, only to find a look that would not allow any objections. Hesitating, you glanced over your shoulder to find that Swerve had already disappeared into the tunnels. Then, resigning yourself to your fate with a sigh, you moved to stand by your sister’s side, who gave you a similarly resigned glance.

It looked like you were about to experience together one of Ultra Magnus’ legendary “personal debriefs”.

_Wonderful._

* * *

 

Gala had grossly understated just how dreadful Ultra Magnus’ “personal debriefs” were. You hadn’t thought it was physically possible for the human brain to be this deprived of any meaningful stimulation. At some point during the briefing, you’d sat down on the floor, grown intimately familiar with the small white paint stain next to you, Magnus’s voice had become a low, monotone background buzz and their bulk became a fuzzy shape of blue, white and red.

You blinked a few times, refocusing your eyes before you started going cross-eyed or began dozing off. So far, Gala had done most of the talking, explaining in excessive details the procedures Tailgate had gone through, the modified daily routine which had replaced the previous one, what with the new patient on board, and everything that Ultra Magnus deemed worthy of mention - all the way to the replacement of a loose screw on the staff room door hinges.

It wasn’t a mean temper or a sharp tongue that had reduced a leading Mer diplomatic relationship expert to tears, you finally realized, but simply pure, suffocating _boredom._ You glanced up to your sister, new found respect in your eyes as she soldiered on through what should by all rights be considered psychological torture by the UN.

Though you began to wonder why exactly Ultra Magnus wanted you to stay, seeing as you had barely said anything as of yet. You’d given short, awkward answers to the few questions Magnus had asked you - mostly about Swerve’s condition - but nothing you’d said felt truly crucial or pertinent.

With a quiet sigh, you tilted your head back to look up at the Reservoir’s ceiling. A light well had been installed where part of the cave had collapsed years ago, letting in some natural light and preventing anyone wandering outside from falling down; not that that particular area was made accessible to the public. You noticed that the gentle morning light had made way for the bright, if harsh rays of an early summer noon. Oh, what you wouldn’t give to be outside, soaking up those rays, instead of here.

“___.”

You jumped a little when Magnus repeated your name, snapping back to reality.

“Yessir!”

The Mer’s brow raised slightly at your outburst, but they continued regardless.

“Galadriel tells me that your involvement has played a pivotal role in Tailgate’s recovery. Thus, I would like to extend my gratitude.”

You subtly swallowed a little, your mouth feeling somewhat dry all of sudden. You wanted to revel in such an acknowledgement, you truly did.

_This is all my fault._

But you just couldn’t.

“I, uh... Just doing what I can to help, sir.” _Helping fix what I caused,_  you quietly added in your head.

Magnus considered your answer for a moment, and you had to resist the urge to squirm under their scrutiny.

“Earlier, you have mentioned plans to eventually return to your familial pod and seek a professional occupation, with your own condition having improved enough to allow so. However, considering the beneficial influence you have had on Tailgate’s health and comfort, I would invite you to reconsider those plans.”

You blinked owlishly, a little slow to process Magnus’ request.

“Wait... Are you asking me to stay?” You blurted out, baffled by this development; you’d have thought that the delegate would have disapproved of the involvement of untrained humans in the Lost Light’s affairs.

“Essentially, yes.” They nodded, joining their hands over the edge of the platform. “From Galadriel’s reports, it seems that Tailgate still has a long way to go until full recovery. As such, it would be wise to keep all of our assets close by.”

Your head spun a little with the implications.

“I, uh...”

You turned to your sister, unsure of what to make of all this. You also had half expected her to give you that silent, disapproving frown, but found yourself further confused by the encouraging smile she bore instead.

“I... If you need me to stay, then I will, sir.”

“Excellent. Now that this is settled, we can begin to discuss your assigned tasks and salary.”

Both you and Gala jumped.

“What do you mean, _my salary?”_  You sputtered, your eyes growing wide.

“Wait, Ultra Magnus, sir, you can’t be seriously-” Gala started, but was quickly interrupted with a simple hand gesture from the Mer.

“One cannot be held accountable for their actions and contributions if there are no official records to confirm their presence. If ___ is to remain at the _Lost Light,_  then I must insist on them following the proper channels and leaving behind a documented paper trail.”

 _Ah._  So this was a matter of insurance rather than generosity. This actually made a lot more sense. Still, what an incentive not to mess up: _don’t fuck up or we’ll know it’s you and sue your ass._  Lovely.

Gala though was still unconvinced.

“Sir, you can’t just make these kinds of decisions on your own. With our funds being so low, the RMWRC executive board does not want to hire more personnel. They won’t be happy about this, if they find out.” She remarked, frowning.

Ultra Magnus obviously did not share her concerns.

“With all due respect to the board, all of the _Lost Light’s_  activities within the RMWRC happen because _I_  allow them to. They are welcome to think what they will of hiring a person whose influence is beneficial to the recovery of a member of my pod.”

They straightened before continuing, gazing down at the both of you from their full height.

“However, if they wish to go against the terms of the Tyrest Accord and deny my authority in these matters, then we will simply reclaim your patients and find another place for our people to go to, where they will honor the Accord properly.”

You felt your stomach drop at the thought of the pod leaving Rimouski altogether - Chromedome, Rewind, Pipes, and all of the others, simply gone overnight. And what about Swerve? Would they take him, or would he be left all alone here?

Gala only narrowed her eyes, resting her hands on her hips.

“You wouldn’t. You’d never endanger the vulnerable members of your pod like this, especially over something so petty.”

Was that a ghost of a smile on Magnus’ lips? They looked just as steely as always, and yet, you could swear that the corner of their lips seemed to draw up just a little.

“Indeed. But the board does not know as much.”

You blinked, then turned to your sister, only to find her showing a crooked smile.

“You know they’ll shit themselves if you ever make that threat, right? The _Lost Light’s_  Merfolk outreach program brings in more than half of their annual visitors and funding. The RMWRC would sink right away without this partnership.”

For something that spelled immediate termination and unemployment for your sister, she seemed weirdly unconcerned about it all, even _amused._  All of this just so you’d be held accountable in case you screwed up?

You pushed yourself up on your feet, lifting your hands up as you felt your stomach twist uncomfortably.

“Look, I don’t want to cause any trouble. If it’s only going to create a mess, then I’ll just go home and leave Tailgate’s care to the professionals.”

But before you could turn to leave, Gala caught your arm, forcing you to stay.

“Oh, relax, will you? None of that’ll happen. The board barely pays any attention to what’s going on in the center, they probably won’t notice the extra salary until this all blows over.”

You glanced up at the large Mer, carefully considering your words before turning your attention back to Gala, lowering your voice almost to a murmur.

“You know, I’m surprised you’re even going along with this, sis. I thought that you’d...” You paused at the sight of her confusion, then sighed. “Never mind.”

“I do not understand.”

Both you and your sister turned to the delegate as they spoke up.

“Swerve said that this was something you wanted. Is it not the case?”

You hesitated to answer that - partly because you didn’t really know the answer yourself. For every reason that you wanted this opportunity, you had just as many for turning it down. And this was all happening so fast. Too fast.

In the end, you didn’t need to say anything. As usual, Gala seemed to instinctively know what the problem was. Or part of it anyway.

“Look, ___. You don’t have to make up your mind straight away, take some time to think about it. We can figure out the details later, and then you can give an answer.”

You relaxed slightly, giving your sister a grateful smile.

“Alright.”

Gala turned to Ultra Magnus, keeping her hand on your shoulder.

“We’ll come back to that later. Is that fine?”

The Mer considered this development for a moment, before giving a single nod.

“Perfectly. But if ___ is to continue participating in the _Lost Light’s_  activities, we ought not to dawdle for too long.”

“Right, sir. I just need to think about it first.”

“Of course.”

Sensing that the conversation was about to take another turn, you shrugged off Gala’s hand and leaned back against the billboard. However, you were paying a lot more attention, now that the “personal debrief” seemed to be over. Gala also seemed more relaxed, a lot more casual than you would have expected her to act with who was, for all intents and purposes, her boss.

“Now that we’ve settled what’s happened in the _Lost Light_  since the pod’s return from the winter migration, perhaps you could explain what the hell the past few weeks were about? Where did the lot of you run off to, while we were left to deal with Tailgate on our own?”

You actually were surprised to see Ultra Magnus stiffening after Gala’s line of questioning. It wasn’t clear if it was her tone which caused discomfort, or the questions themselves.

“We were... following Protocol Omega 15.”

“Oh.”

A heavy silence filled the Reservoir following their answer. You glanced to your sister, hoping for some explanation as for what that meant, but instead found yourself blinking at what was obvious terror on her face. When it was clear she wouldn’t say any more, you looked back and forth between Magnus and Gala.

“What? What’s Protocol Omega 15? What does it mean?”

Ultra Magnus was the one to answer your questions with a simple, somber word.

“Overlord.”

Oh.

_Oh._

Well, that explained everything. And that wasn’t you being facetious, it truly did: the pod suddenly disappearing from the radar, the uncomfortable silence Rewind and Chromedome shared while you commented on the pod’s absence, Cyclonus’ uneasiness, the orders to avoid all contact with humans, including the RMWRC... It all made sense with the simple mention of the one unmentionable name within the _Lost Light._  Not even references to Megatron were as taboo here - and the notorious Mer had led a long, bloody war on the Merfolk who would ally themselves with humans, costing too many lives. Mer _and_  human.

Megatron had threatened everyone in the Lawrencian pod at some point or another, of course - but it was Overlord who was behind more than half of the patients residing in the _Lost Light._  Their name was one that would never be spoken aloud within the safe walls of the rehabilitation center - or outside of these walls for that matter. Every townsfolk knew at least one other who lost someone to the terrible Saint-Barnabé Massacre.

You shuddered at the memory. You could still recall, clear as day, images on the television of the river turned crimson, scenes filmed from helicopters of a bay filled with sinking ships, and bodies, human and Mer, floating in a sea of... Suddenly you shook your head, chasing away the horrid images.

It had taken the combined efforts of the Lawrencian pod and the Canadian Coast Guard to drive away the deadly Mer, at a terrible cost. Every Merfolk in the pod present on that day still bore the scars today - Ultra Magnus included, as you stole a glance of the bulging scars on their stomach - but none more so than Fortress Maximus, who single-handedly held off Overlord for over half an hour while the pod and the Guard mobilized, then gave Overlord the fatal wounds which forced their retreat.

In the aftermath of the Saint-Barnabé Massacre, the _Lost Light_  had welcomed six new permanent residents within its walls: Fortress Maximus, following the severe dismemberment they’d suffered at Overlord’s hands; Pipes, crushed under Overlord’s weight as they fled to warn the Pod; Chromedome, losing an arm to Overlord’s insatiable appetite as they protected their mate; and by association, Rewind, who, even if healthy enough to remain with the Lawrencian pod, chose to stay with their mate; Red Alert, who blamed themselves for the incident and almost successfully took their own life as a result; and finally, Rung, whose skills as the pod’s counsellor rivaled some the most respected human psychiatrists, who stayed with the _Lost Light’s_  most traumatized patients during the winter and freely travelled back and forth from the center to the pod during the summer.

During the weeks following the Massacre, Fortress Maximus had been lauded a hero by the whole country, only to then be secluded in the _Lost Light_  and promptly forgotten about by everyone in the outside world. To your own shame, you’d also completely forgotten about them, up until Gala started working here, nearly a decade later.

As for Overlord, their body was never found. Despite the severity of their injuries, no one had wanted to take any chances with the Devil - they were considered still at large. Hence, you presumed, the existence of this Protocol Omega 15.

Gala finally gathered her wits about, enough to speak up.

“Were they truly..? Did they show up again?”

Ultra Magnus lifted a reassuring hand.

“Fishermen have shared rumors of sightings in the area. Only hearsay, but we did not wish to take any unnecessary risks.”

“So you initiated the quarantine protocols.”

“To draw their attention away and prevent further human casualties, if they were indeed back in the Saint-Lawrence estuary.”

“And Rung?”

“Although they were but rumors, the possibility of facing Overlord again... caused great distress in our ranks. So Rung’s services were requested for the duration of the quarantine.”

“And now you’re here. Does it mean it’s over?” You asked, realizing that you could have had a much more unpleasant experience on that stormy evening, if the rumors were to be believed.

As Magnus’ expression relaxed, you felt the tension in the room evaporate. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw Gala breathe a sigh as her shoulders sagged in relief.

“After finally tracking down the man at the source of the rumors, we examined the visual evidence he had taken. Fortunately, the rumors were unfounded. Whoever was in those pictures, they were not Overlord.”

It was difficult not to sigh in relief yourself, rubbing your hands to ease the slight tremors that had taken them. You’d been in high school in Montreal when the Massacre happened, far from Rimouski. But it had been a huge trauma for the whole province, the images of the bloodied bay lingering in the public consciousness for months, nearly years even after the incident. The Saint-Lawrence River crossed the whole province, cutting it in half, and though it led straight into the Atlantic Ocean, it had been considered for the longest time safe waters to navigate; untouched by the war endangering most coastal settlements, and populated with friendly, if indifferent Merfolk.

The Saint-Barnabé Massacre had been a brutal wake-up call which still rang painfully in the ears of the Rimouski townsfolk, almost year after the end of the war.

Gala shared a relieved glance with you, before smiling up to Ultra Magnus.

“So, it’s alright now. Things are back to normal.”

The Mer delegate’s composure stiffened once more, and they joined their hands to rest on the platform again. They were tense, and if you weren’t misinterpreting their body language, they almost seemed... embarrassed.

“Well... Almost. There is one more thing.”

Gala blinked, her smile fading away. 

“... What?”

You pushed yourself away from the billboard, straightening up as Magnus glanced quickly between you and your sister.

“It is not something I would wish to burden anyone else with, let alone a community that has been nothing but welcoming and supportive to our pod’s presence in this sector. Especially considering the misfortunes this presence has already indirectly brought to this community.”

“What? What is it?”

“There have been some... developments on our end since we have left on our seasonal migration last fall. This is something you should know, Galadriel. ___, too, if you wish to pursue a professional career here at the _Lost Light,_  in collaboration with our pod.”

Gala frowned at the Mer, crossing her arms over her chest as she began tapping her foot on the floor. This wasn’t like them at all, taking these detours instead of getting to the point.

“Stop beating around the bush, Magnus. Out with it, already.”

You now knew for sure that the Mer was embarrassed when they stared at Gala for a moment, carefully considering their words instead of silently disapproving of her attitude.

“... In the official reports, the war has ended with Megatron’s disappearance and the ensuing surrender of their forces last August.”

Gala’s foot still tapped on the floor.

“I sense a _but_  in that statement.”

Magnus sighed, a long, noisy rush of air which blew gently over the both of you.

“However... I am afraid that high command has not been entirely forthright with your governments. We actually found Megatron a few months ago, and they have since had a... _change of heart.”_  They hesitated for a few seconds, then cleared their throat before continuing. “We attempted to handle the situation through our own legal channels, but, Megatron- They invoked an obscure, but unalienable right granted to every Mer under our ancient traditions. To refuse them their right would have set a dangerous precedent for our newly established governing body, broken the trust of our civilians and disrespected our ancestors-”

Gala growled slightly, interrupting the Mer’s blathering.

“Would you _please_  just get to the point? How does this concern us?”

The delegate stopped their endless explanations, closing their eyes for a moment. The grinding of their teeth was almost audible, even from a distance.

“Megatron is part of our pod now.”

The tension which followed Ultra Magnus’ simple statement was so thick, it almost felt tangible, filling the room like wet cement. Some dust fell from the ceiling, the soft rattle echoing through the silence of the Reservoir.

“... What the everloving _fuck_  do you mean, Megatron is part of your pod?” Gala finally spat out after a minute of unpleasant awkwardness.

You weren’t one for irreverent behavior towards figures of authority, but on this, you definitely agreed with your sister.

“You can’t be fucking serious,” you objected, moving to stand by Gala’s side. “Are they here, right now? In Rimouski?”

Ultra Magnus seemed a little too disturbed themselves to bother reprimanding the both of you for your brazen outbursts.

“Regrettably, they are.”

“Ultra Magnus, that- that _terrorist_  is responsible for the extinction of so many Merfolk pods as well as the deaths of thousands of humans, and you’re just going to- to- to let them join your pod, like nothing’s even happened?!” Your sister seethed, gesticulating wildly as she struggled to find the right words to express her outrage.

The Mer hung their head slightly.

“Believe me, Rodimus is no more pleased than you are, Galadriel. None of us are. Unfortunately, this is out of our hands. Megatron is to remain with our pod until further notice. Order of high command.”

Even Gala seemed surprised by the resignation in the delegate’s whole being. Ultra Magnus had always been a monolith, an uncompromising, dominant force - the very personification of the immovable object. Even in pictures, their mere presence commanded respect. This aura of theirs made it easy sometimes to forget that Magnus wasn’t the ultimate authority within the larger Mer society.

Still, this did not placate Gala one bit.

“So you’re just going to roll over and let Megatron frolic about - let them wander freely around town, around the _Lost Light?_  Where everyone has suffered in some manner because of them?” She quipped.

Magnus suddenly straightened, narrowing their eyes, as if slapped by her words.

“Of course not. Megatron is under tight surveillance, their movements are closely monitored and restricted.”

 _"Good.”_  Gala waved a finger threateningly up at the Mer, unfazed by the fact that even with her arm outstretched, it barely reached up to their collarbone. “Because I do not want them anywhere near my patients and staff.” She glanced to the side, meeting your eyes. “Or my family.”

“A reasonable concern, Galadriel.” The delegate sighed. “High command strongly suggested we did not divulge this information to the local population to avoid causing a panic. And I agree. However, considering our long-standing professional relationship and the impeccable work you have always done for the sake of our pod, I did not feel it would honor your loyal services to keep such a secret from you. You had every right to know.”

Gala seemed ready to prod the Mer some more, but then paused to consider Magnus’ praise. Her fury finally abated in the face of their honesty, fizzing out like a wet firecracker and leaving her with a long sigh of her own.

“... Thank you, sir. I’ve always appreciated the trust you put in this partnership.”

“Likewise.” They nodded, before turning to you, scrutinizing you for a moment. “As for you, ___, I sincerely hope this situation does not discourage you from continuing on your current path.”

You hesitated, rubbing the back of your neck. Because, to be perfectly honest, this certainly did change things. Working with Merfolk was one thing, especially when it came the friendly members of the Lawrencian pod, offering shelter and care in a way only humans can provide, and acting as a liaison between the two species. That was all fine and dandy.

But the thought of that same pod now harboring Megatron, of all Merfolk, did make you pause for a minute, no use denying it. Could you sincerely say that you could do the same for a notorious Mer terrorist as you were currently doing for Swerve, Tailgate, or even Pharma?

You frowned. Ultra Magnus did say that no one in their pod was happy about this development either. It wouldn’t be fair to everyone else in the pod to walk away because of the one Mer. Even if that Mer _was_  Megatron.

“... I won’t lie, sir, this does make it uncomfortable. But... It’s not like we’ll be forced to work with Megatron everyday, is it?”

The Mer relaxed almost imperceptibly before their stance hardened.

“No, definitely not. They may be part of our pod now, but letting them near this place and its people are out of the question. Save for exceptional circumstances, we do no intend to allow Megatron within the _Lost Light_  unsupervised.”

You dared not to think what exceptional circumstances would call for Megatron’s presence in the _Lost Light,_  but still, Ultra Magnus’ assurances were comforting enough for you and your sister. As long as you did not have to work with them, perhaps you could pretend everything was the same as always. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

You sure hoped so, at least. Because you weren’t sure you would be able to deal with Megatron in person, reformed or not. The thought of them roaming the river near Rimouski was daunting enough as it was.

Ultra Magnus considered the both of you for a moment, then glanced up at the light well, noting the position of the sun with a distracted hum.

“I should get going soon. I need to prepare a report for Rodimus, and there is much to consider beforehand. Is there anything else that you wish to discuss before then?” They addressed the question to both you and your sister, staring between the two of you.

You turned to Gala, who looked back to you before shaking her head.

“I think we’ve covered it all for now. Thank you for stopping by, sir.”

“Of course. Do not worry about informing your patients of the situation, Galadriel, I will take care of it myself.”

“I appreciate that. I don’t think it’d go over that well if I was the one to break the news to them.”

 _Probably better, though, than when Ultra Magnus deadpans it to them,_  you quietly thought to yourself, but decided against voicing your doubts. Gala could dish over all the attitude she wanted to the delegate on the basis of their shared history. You had no such leg to stand on.

The Mer turned, about to leave, but stopped suddenly. Instead they reached down to their hip, where a pouch weaved with kelp hung from a sling.

“I almost forgot.” They searched the pocket as they spoke, pulling out something small, pinched between their fingers. They reached over to you. “I believe this is yours, ___.”

Your brow shot up in surprise, and you glanced at Gala before stepping closer, hands cupped to receive whatever Magnus had for you. You tried not to cringe when they plopped something freezing and slimy into your palms. When the Mer’s fingers retreated, you finally got a good look at what was apparently yours.

Brushing off a thick coat of sea clay, you recognized the black, cracked screen underneath.

“My phone,” you stated flatly, pinching the soaked device between your thumb and index as you flicked off the grime from your other hand.

There was no way this could ever be salvaged, even with all the solvent soaks and rice bags in the world. It was utterly ruined. But still, as you looked up to the Mer’s insistent stare, you forced on a smile and fought the urge to simply chuck it back into the water. Well, at least, with your broken phone in hand, you actually had something to return to the provider in exchange for a replacement. Hopefully the warranty covered seafloor-grimed phones in its policy.

“Erm... Thank you, sir.”

“You are welcome. I hear this is a very important tool in human professional environments. You ought to take care not to lose it again.”

Right. You kept the smile on, despite Gala covering her snickering with light coughs besides you.

“Yeah, ___. Be more careful in the future.”

“Will do, sir,” you nodded, staring up at the Mer as you elbowed your sister none-too-gently in the ribs, effectively shutting her up.

“One last thing, ___.”

Magnus’ tone effectively sobered the both of you up. They leaned over slowly, resting their elbows on the platform’s edge as they looked down on you with grave countenance.

“Next time you are out at sea, please use a life jacket. There will not always be someone out there to rescue you.”

You opened your mouth to answer, but your throat felt a little too tight and you simply closed it again and swallowed uneasily instead, nodding stiffly. You’d been told as much a hundred times already, by coast guards, cops and doctors, and each time you’d simply lied about losing it in the struggle against the poachers - mostly to avoid the costly fine that would have resulted from an admission of guilt.

But Ultra Magnus had held you that night, bleeding, drowning, _dying_  in their arms. And you definitely had not been wearing your life jacket. It probably still laid in the cupboard in the cabin of your sunk boat, unused.

A freezing lump settled heavily in your guts, and you avoided Magnus’ eyes, shuffling your feet.

“Yes, sir,” you finally relented.

“Furthermore, as I understand it, it is the law.”

“It is,” you conceded, and, judging from the delegate’s reputation, you fully expected to find a fine with your name on it in Gala’s mail later. “However, I don’t think there will ever be a next time, sir,” you added regretfully.

You wouldn’t be getting any more little private getaways with your boat currently sitting on the seabed. And there was no way you would ever be able to afford a replacement. You had been lucky enough to inherit it from your uncle when he bought himself a better, bigger boat for his fishing trips.

Magnus regarded you quietly, before nodding and sinking into the water.

“I will return tomorrow to hear your answer, ___. However, for Tailgate’s sake, I hope you will accept my terms.”

You didn’t really need to think about it after all, or maybe you simply were too overwhelmed at the moment to care about your misgivings. Either way, the words left your mouth before you could stop them.

“I accept them, sir. I’ll stay.”

Gala beamed in the corner of your vision, a confusing reaction, but one you would question her about later.

“Excellent. Then we shall discuss the details tomorrow, instead.” The Mer concluded. “You are dismissed.”

They then disappeared underneath the surface, bright colors quickly fading into the dark depths.

As soon as the delegate was gone, you turned, ignoring Gala as she tried to talk with you. You marched off instead, mud-caked phone in hand, towards the Reservoir’s exit.

You needed to have a talk with Swerve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand this concludes the longest chapter I've written for this story so far - perhaps a little excessively long, but there was much to cover in this chapter. I'm sorry about the delay for this update, it's not so much that this chapter was difficult to write or that I lost interest in this story, far from it. I simply had too much going on in my life; work has been increasingly difficult to deal with (but the good news is, I probably have less than a month to go before the working season ends!), I applied and tested for another better job, and celebrated my birthday a few days ago. My energy levels are through the floor right now, but hopefully not for long.
> 
> I'd be lying if I said that Ultra Magnus isn't based on [Uniformshark's wonderful design](https://66.media.tumblr.com/f3fd47c002081ed2e5cac248b69a68b7/tumblr_njblqgWSBQ1qdwmego3_1280.jpg) \- I might come around to making my own design, but with how chaotic my life is currently, it might be a little while before I do, haha...
> 
> And with this last chapter, we are now moving onto requests! Allow me to remind you of the details:
> 
> \- Every MTMTE/LL characters are still alive in this story, no canon deaths happened  
> \- One character spotlighted per chapter (unless for some reason, I feel like two characters could fit well in the same chapter)  
> \- You can request characters which haven't shown up yet, or that have already appeared in the story
> 
> I will **not** write:
> 
> \- Overlord  
> \- The DJD  
> \- The Scavengers (although they _will_ show up eventually - only later in the story)
> 
> If you aren't sure whether a character you want to see fits these criterias, feel free to request them anyway, and I'll see if I can fit them in! You may also request more than one character, but keep in mind that I will try to fill in a request for everyone first to keep it fair.
> 
> EDIT: I forgot to mention, if anyone is interested in beta-reading for this story, let me know!


	10. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was requested by [NotSoMetalKnightmare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotSoMetalKnightmare/pseuds/NotSoMetalKnightmare)! I hope you enjoy it!

You sat on the platform, brooding, as you inspected your phone. Cracked. Caked in clay. The case you’d paid 20 bucks for on eBay was missing. Your SIM card was most probably ruined too.

Behind you, Swerve puttered nervously at the edge of his tank, if the quiet splashes of water were anything to go by. As you pulled a piece of kelp out of the mud covering your phone, his voice finally rose above the hum of machinery and the gentle laps of the water, wavering slightly.

“Are you mad at me..?”

Taking a deep breath, you looked up at the posters covering up every inch of the walls of Swerve’s room. Gerry Boulet, Robert Charlebois and Marjo smiled down at you among the Pink Floyd, David Bowie and Genesis vinyl albums, and a young Céline Dion gave you sultry eyes next to the Spielberg and Lucasfilm movie posters. You sighed, shaking your head as you put your phone aside.

“... No. I’m not. I just...”

You stopped, taking a moment to think before shuffling around to pull your legs from the platform’s edge and face your friend.

“Okay, look. _Yes,_  I was a little angry with you earlier. I know I never said outright that I wanted it to be a secret, but I thought you understood I didn’t want anyone to know yet. _But_ ,” you hastened to continue, before Swerve could open his mouth to apologize for the twelfth time in the last ten minutes. “But, I know Magnus put you in a difficult position. I know how much you need to make a good impression on them. I know how much this means to you. I just...”

You paused, then glanced away, staring down at your phone.

“I just wasn’t ready for Gala to know. Let alone _Ultra Magnus,_  of all people.”

The Mer stared at you for a long moment, mouth opening and closing repeatedly as, for once, he struggled to find something to say. Finally, with a whine, he sank into the water until only his fingers and face peeked over the platform’s edge.

“I’m sorry, ___. I know I have a big mouth and I’m always getting you in trouble-”

“No. _I’m_  sorry, for snapping at you. People yell at you enough as it is, I... I didn’t mean to do it, too.”

You shuffled closer to the tank’s edge, sitting cross-legged near him. Silence, heavy and awkward, filled the room again. The both of you took turns glancing at each other, going to say something before changing your minds and looking down in silence instead. Predictably, Swerve was the one to break the lull in the end.

“So, how did the debrief go? What... What did Mags say?” He asked, speaking the words so carefully, as though they might bounce back and hit him back in the face.

You sighed deeply, running a hand over your face.

“Personal debriefs with that Mer should be used as an interrogation technique. Bore your suspect to death, maybe they’ll confess.” You rubbed your forehead as you continued. “I think part of my brain liquefied down there.”

The beluga smiled, a stiff and awkward grin revealing pointy teeth.

“Yeah, that’s pretty typical of the Big Mags. What else?” He pressed on, shuffling closer to lean on the edge of the platform. You got the feeling he was looking for a specific answer.

“They also called me out on not wearing my life jacket on that night. Brought me back my phone,” you said, picking up the brick of clay that now made up the bulk of your mobile. “I don’t think you’ll be able to play Temple Run or Roblox just yet, though. The thing’s beyond salvageable.”

Uncharacteristically, Swerve didn’t seem interested by the games at all. He just politely nodded, giving distracted little hums.

“And...” You began.

He leaned forward, staring at you intently.

“And?”

“And, against all the odds, Magnus offered me a post here,” you finally admitted, giving your friend the information he was most likely after.

You got your confirmation when he _beamed,_  a brilliant grin on his face as he surged out of the water to grip your legs. His tail splashed water everywhere in his excitement, his room thankfully large enough that it did not reach the precious posters covering his walls.

“That’s _fantastic!_  I knew you could do it! You got a job here, isn’t that _amazing?”_

However, his delight began to waver in the long silence following his outburst. As you failed to share in his enthusiasm, he removed his hands from your lap and carefully shuffled back into his tank.

“You don’t... _look_  excited.”

After his comment, you couldn’t help yourself. Your expression soured, as your posture sagged slightly.

“I don’t deserve it, Swerve. I didn’t do anything to deserve this opportunity. I’m not even qualified to work here.”

“You don’t des-” he cut himself off while bemusedly repeating your comment, and began gesticulating instead. “Did nothing?! You’ve been helping around here for years! _You saved Tailgate!”_

 _Fat lot of good that does them, when I’m the reason they’re here in the first place,_  the glum thought rose unbidden in your mind. Swerve studied your grimace for a little longer before grumbling.

“Sometimes ___, I really don’t get you. Care to share why you feel you don’t deserve this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity you’ve always desired?” He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

You hesitated, debating whether to share with him the accusations Cyclonus leveled against you. Would he understand how irresponsible a sailor this made you? Or would he simply dismiss the implications, blinded by his borderline hero-worship of you, his friend?

But in the end, it was reluctance to discuss what was still a very fresh scar on your self-esteem which kept your lips sealed. You hadn’t shared these accusations this morning when telling him and Gala about yesterday’s encounter, and you wouldn’t now either. You still needed a little more time to lick your proverbial wounds before you could open up about this latest blow. However, the rest of your reasons, you could share more easily.

“There are people, who’ve worked their asses off through college and university, who’ve worked for years in other wildlife conservation facilities, sending in applications, year after year, hoping for a post here. People a million times more qualified to be here than I am. But it’s me, a humanities major drop-out, who’s offered a job, because I happen to be the head medic’s younger sibling? It just doesn’t sit right with me, it’s not fair. It feels like... I don’t know, like cheating, somehow.”

“Who _cares?!”_

The water sent flying everywhere by Swerve’s sudden flailing did not make you flinch back as hard as his shrill yelling did. You stared, flabbergasted as your friend finally _snapped_  at you for the very first time, while he continued to flail his arm and shout indignantly.

“Who cares about who’s more deserving or not, who worked harder for something?! So you got lucky, _big deal!_  When life hands you a golden opportunity on a silver platter, you take it, say ‘thank you very much’, and then scram! You don’t sit around and mope about how you feel like it’s cheating!”

Swerve’s hands latched onto your shoulders, and you could not do anything but hold on clumsily as he began shaking you with surprising urgency.

“For the love of Primus, be selfish for once in your life! You’ve helped around the _Lost Light_  for years without asking for anything in return, hoping that someone would notice eventually - and now that someone has, you turn the job down and sulk about it?! _What’s wrong with you?!_ You and your generation’s pathological need to _earn_  every single little thing in your life, dammit!”

Sometimes, it was little comments like these which reminded you of Swerve’s actual age, much closer to your father’s generation than yours; not that this meant much considering Merfolk’s long, slowly maturing lives. But it was not this reminder of your friend’s age which had you smiling sheepishly.

“Who said anything about turning the job down?”

Swerve’s hands remained on your shoulders, although their grip loosened somewhat after your little quip. As you stared at each other for a quiet moment, you heard footsteps slowing outside in the hall - probably some member of the staff stopping by to glance inside, seeing if the all the yelling necessitated an intervention, before continuing on their way.

“... You took the job?”

“Yeah, I did. I promised I would, didn’t I?”

The Mer blinked owlishly at you. Quicker than you could react, his fist landed on your shoulder. He sounded exasperated, but his punch barely hit hard enough to be more than a playful jab. You gave a sprightly laugh as you rubbed at your arm.

“Why didn’t you just say so?!”

“Sorry, you just startled me! Yelling at me like that!” You confessed between bouts of repressed laughter.

He finally seemed to realize what he’d just done, his indignation quickly replaced by wide-eyed worry.

“Oh Primus- I’m so sorry, ___, I- I didn’t mean to start yelling at you,” he babbled, reaching to your shoulder with a hesitant hand, stopping shy of touching you while bringing his other hand just short of his mouth, inches from nibbling on his knuckles in a nervous tic. “I shouldn’t have punched you either, or, or shook you! I’m sorry, are- are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, didn’t I?”

You couldn’t hold back the laughter anymore, gently taking hold of his hand as you tried fighting down the giggles.

“No, no, it’s fine, buddy! It’s all fine, you didn’t hurt me,” you reassured him, patting his hand. You and your sister spent a lot of time growing up jabbing at each other like he’d just done, that was far from the hardest hit you’d ever received. No doubt he felt more guilty about the shouting, having often found himself on the receiving end; unfortunately, the staff didn’t always have the patience to deal with his chatter and routine pranking.

At his quiet, anxious fidgeting, you let go of his hand and leaned over for a more direct approach - wrapping your arms loosely around his neck as you rested your chin on his shoulders, ignoring the cool water seeping into your clothes.

“You’re alright, Swerve. I didn’t mind the yelling. In fact, I think I might have needed that, a little,” you admitted with a sheepish chuckle. Sometimes, you could get lost in your own brooding, blinded by your negative thoughts and pessimistic outlook on life. Your friend’s yelling snapped you out of your gloomy ruminations long enough for you to actually listen. And with this outsider’s perspective, you found that maybe your misgivings didn’t seem as serious as you made them out to be.

Sure, there was still the matter of your responsibility in Tailgate’s capture... But Tailgate themselves didn’t really seem to hold it against you. What was it they’d said when you’d apologized to them? _Don’t be silly._  

Cyclonus felt differently, obviously. Still, you were working on that, on righting your wrongs. Wasn’t this what you were trying to do, while caring for Tailgate? Maybe someday, you’ll have done enough to absolve yourself, and make peace with Cyclonus.

A gentle warmth bloomed in your cheeks and breast at the thought, accompanied by Swerve’s arms slipping around you, carefully pulling himself into your rare embrace. You felt him nuzzle into your shoulder, before opening his mouth - but you cut him off, before he could speak a single word.

“I swear to god, if you apologize again, I’m gonna kick your sorry arse all the way to the cafeteria.”

Your empty threat worked just as you’d hoped. Instead of an apology, incoherent giggles escaped him, a much more pleasant sound to your ears. His arms closed around you with more certainty now, giving you a squeeze so tight it left you wheezing and weakly patting his back for release. When it came, you laughed breezily with him before letting him go.

“Thanks Swerve. I needed this.”

“I still don’t understand what goes on in that head of yours sometimes. But hey, if yelling at you _helped.”_

You laughed again, then shook your head as you moved back a little. Your clothes were wet and cold now, but you felt light and warm for the first time in a long while.

“So...”

“So?” You repeated back at him.

The look on Swerve’s face could only be described as a shit-eating grin.

“Are you still buying me a tablet with your first paycheck?”

 

* * *

 

You’d hoped for a little more time getting used to your new post and responsibilities before having to face the quintessential madness which animated the _Lost Light_  throughout the year. Not that the visiting groups of children and tourists, or regular residents caused much trouble around the facility - on the contrary. Save from the occasional human troublemaker or harmless prank by Swerve, things usually ran smoothly on a daily basis.

No - problems, when they arose, usually came in the form of unexpected guests from the Saint-Lawrence River...

Dusk brought with it a lethargic lull in activity, as most residents finished their evening meals and prepared to bed down, while the night shift personnel began to trickle in, still a little too early to begin the first round of surveillance.

It had been decided, during your first official briefing with Ultra Magnus, that you would take up evening shifts, when the severe lack of staff was most sorely felt. That was more than fine for you, regular day shifts beginning too early in the morning to your tastes and night shifts being... Well, _night shifts._  You came in to work a little after noon, and enjoyed a few hours of reprieve from your sister breathing down your neck when she left before dinner time.

You _did_  appreciate her teaching you the ropes and training you for the new tasks you’d been assigned; but considering how long you’d been helping around beforehand, you would think you would be able to do simple tasks, like bringing the residents their meals, without her watching you like a hawk from the corners. However, once Gala took off for the evening around half past four, you could make the most of your new found autonomy to get yourself better acquainted with the residents you weren’t as familiar with. It’s not that you hadn’t been allowed to meet them before; they merely preferred to limit their human interactions to the staff caring for their needs - staff you were now a part of.

And though Pharma was one of these Mer residents you now had to better familiarize yourself with, you had been fortunate enough over the three days following your hiring to avoid interacting with the crafty squid. Tonight was no exception, as you breathed a sigh of relief upon entering the staff room at the end of your shift. Pharma usually became active around this time of the evening, so roaming the halls of the _Lost Light_  on your way to punch your time card always felt a little like an unpleasant game of hide and seek.

You turned to look over the staff room after closing the door, finding it blissfully empty and quiet. Over the past few years, you’d been a frequent guest to the facility, but that didn’t make you all that familiar and comfortable with all of the staff there. Something the next couple of weeks should hopefully fix.

With a quiet sigh of relief, you grabbed your clothes off the hangers and slipped inside one of the changing cubicles, looking forward to changing into dry and warm clothes at last. After unceremoniously dumping your clothes on the ground, you undid the zipper on your wetsuit and began to shimmy your way out. The break room door slowly, hesitatingly creaked open, but you ignored it, stepping out of the suit now bunched at your feet and kicking them a little ways from you so you could properly dry yourself up - silently thanking whichever force out there reminded you to put a towel in the dryer about a dozen minutes before the end of your shift, so you could now enjoy the fluffy warmth on your cool skin.

You paused in the middle of your little moment of bliss, distracted by an odd clicking noise in the room. It sounded almost as if a whole group of people wearing heels clattered near your cubicle.

“... Hello? Is anyone there?” You hesitated, glancing over your shoulder.

The scattered clacking stopped abruptly, an uneasy silence taking its place for a few seconds. You almost had a mind to take a peek past the curtain partition, when you finally got an answer.

“Yeah, yeah, hello,” a scratchy voice replied, obviously distracted.

Not anyone you recognized from the staff, though you were pretty sure you heard that strange rasp before. How puzzling. And not to mention, awkward. If they weren’t part of the staff, who _were_  they? Someone’s friend? Why were they here? Here to pick up someone after their shift? Would they like some conversation? _Ack,_  small talk never was your forte.

“So, uh... Nice weather we’re having lately, uh?” You offered, hoping you didn’t sound as embarrassed as you felt.

You heard a scoff, alarmingly close to the curtain, which already barely protected your privacy as it was.

“More like _boring._  Could use a good storm around here, shake it up a little, eh?”

“Err... Personally, I’m good.”

You already had your share of storms for a good while. You didn’t care for a repeat of the last time you were caught in bad weather; nearly drowning once was enough to last you for the next decade at least.

“ _Suit_  yourself,“ the voice cackled, seemingly amused by their own choice of words.

 _Weird fellow,_  you decided, as you turned around to get dressed at last.

But you paused, blinking stupidly at the empty floor.

Strange, you could swear you’d dropped your clothes by the curtain earlier. You definitely remembered doing so. You began turning circles in your cubicle, unable to find your clothes, and discovering that your wetsuit had also vanished.

“I don’t get why you fleshies insist on wearing such soft gizmos,” the voice continued, indifferent to your silence, “These hardly constitute proper armor, they’re so-”

**_**RIIIIP** _ **

You slowly turned to the curtain separating you from the room. _That_  wasn’t a good noise.

“... fragile...”

That was when it suddenly hit you.

Skittering. Scratchy voice. _Fleshies._  Destructive. The mounting unease that had been growing inside of you began to make sense. You realized now that even if you never really met them properly, you _did_  know who was in the break room with you - although, as you carefully approached the partition, part of you hoped you were wrong.

But as you pulled the curtain aside to peek beyond, you were greeted by the large, unblinking yellow eye of none other than the Lawrencian pod’s own wrecking ball of a lobster.

 _“Whirl,”_  you hissed between your teeth.

Undaunted, the Mer simply stared right back at you, frozen in place, while bent over nearly horizontal to fit underneath the low ceiling.

“Meatbag.”

Sure enough, a quick glance down confirmed what you already suspected - hooked on the blunt edge of their massive crusher claw, there hung your missing clothes. You looked back up to the Mer, careful not to make any sudden movements.

“Give me my clothes back.” You spoke each word deliberately.

Whirl refused to move, still frozen in the same position you’d found them in.

“Whirl,” you warned again, pulling the curtain open a little wider, as slowly as you could. “Give me my clothes back or I’ll call Gala.”

They simply kept giving you that same unyielding, unnerving stare, the quiet clicks emerging from beneath that long head the only obvious sign of life you could make out. That is, until their many legs began moving haltingly. You knew what this kind of behavior meant, and you narrowed your eyes.

“Whirl--”

That was about as far as you got before the Mer became a blur of blue and legs. Faster than you could react, they’d skittered to the door, upturning chairs and table in their haste. You cried out, slamming the cubicle curtain open, while they attempted to squeeze themselves through door.

“Whirl!”

Too late. To your horror, the giant arthropod managed to squirm through the narrow frame, and was now skedaddling down the hall, making excited clicks which sounded suspiciously like cackles.

 _That_  was what this kind of behavior meant.

Cursing, you hastily looked around the room, desperate to find anything other than a simple towel to cover yourself with. But you found nothing - and with every passing second, Whirl was getting further down the hall with mind-blowing speed. With a howl of frustration, you gave up trying to save your dignity and took off after the Mer, grunting as you hit your shoulder on the door frame on the way out.

Hearing the slaps of your bare feet on the concrete floor, Whirl took a sudden turn, disappearing down a new corridor with what was unmistakably maniacal laughter. You had to grip a pipe running up the corner of a wall, to be able to make the turn quickly enough, only to catch the Mer flying down another hall.

“Whirl, I swear to god-!”

You eventually lost count of how many break-neck turns you had to make just to keep up with the skittering Mer on your wild chase through the labyrinthine passages of the _Lost Light._  You’d swerve around a corner just in time to see them disappearing around another, or you’d chase them down a long corridor, feeling like you were about to catch up with them, only for them to take a sudden turn, leaving you to backtrack as quickly as you could. When you did lose sight of them, following the clatter of their legs and the raspy giggles echoing down the halls usually led you back to them with ease.

A half-tonne, armored giant lobster had no business being this fast out of the water; and yet, here you were, constantly outpaced by said half-tonne giant lobster. You dared not think of how little the towel actually hid of your body, held up only by your fist, nor how many coworkers probably bore witness to your half-naked pursuit. You had more pressing matters to focus on anyway, like catching up to that damn madmer and getting your clothes back, so you could finally head on back to your sister’s place for the night.

Veering around a corner, you saw Whirl shooting down the longest hall in the facility, running parallel to one of the Merfolk passageway. Sensing an opportunity, you ignored your own wheezes and the burn in your legs, and raced down the hall at full speed, roaring at the Mer.

“Get back here, you overgrown prawn!”

Your only answer was another incoherent mess of clicks and cackles, as they momentarily skidded before scampering off again. You were almost there, almost within reach of the Mer’s tail, you only had to reach out and-

Your feet flew from under you, your own loud yelp the last thing you remembered before blacking out.

 

* * *

 

“...eshie...”

Your ears rang, muffling out every other noise as stars fought the fuzzy darkness of your vision. Alarmingly, you couldn’t tell whether your eyes were open or not, even as the ringing began subsiding.

“Oi. Fleshie.”

The scratchy voice was accompanied by something large and quite pointy prodding your cheek.

“You alive, squish?”

You groaned, failing to lift your arm to swat the poking object away. It weakly flopped back to the floor, barely even more than a twitch. You were laying in something wet. A puddle?

“Hrmnfthhuckohff...” You eventually managed to grumble, after wrestling control back over your mouth.

The stars gradually overtook your vision, with them an intensely uncomfortable pressure behind your eyes. Thankfully, they both quickly dissipated, and with great relief you blinked and found you could see again. But as Whirl’s perturbing stare monopolized your vision, you almost wished you still couldn’t.

Almost.

The Mer’s cold and rough claw poked your cheek again, and this time, you managed to push it away, if weakly.

“Stop that. I’m alive.” But another long, pained groan slipped out of you as you very slowly sat up, only managing as much by propping yourself up on your elbows first. Your lower back felt incredibly stiff and numb, for some reason. “What... What happened?”

Your only answer for a moment was a small series of clicks, before they cocked their head to the side, unblinking eye still fixed down on you.

“Dunno. One second you’re yelling, then the next you’re sat on the floor, stupid look on your face.”

You didn’t remember that happening. You must have slipped on the puddle you were currently sitting in and fallen straight on your bum, probably right on your coccyx. Seeing you only narrow your eyes and blink, the Mer continued.

“Then you kinda just started flopping on the floor. Just, wiggling about for a second or two.”

Your eyes flew wide open.

“I had _convulsions?!”_

“It was kinda funny, actually.”

You attempted standing up, but a burning ache took over the numb stiffness of your back, and you sat back down on your hip with a wheeze, finding sitting on your arse was actually beginning to hurt quite a bit too. The Mer simply watched you, barely even leaning back an inch to give you the space to move.

“No, Whirl! Not funny! Fuck! What if I broke something?”

Somehow, some way, Whirl’s big, round eyed stare turned flat.

“Oh, don’t be hysterical. You’re moving, aren’t you?”

You paused, considering their question. They did have a point. Though your lower back and bum ached something awful by now, you were indeed able to move; if only carefully. Had you seriously hurt yourself, you probably would still be flopping around on the floor like limp bacon.

“... Yeah. I’m moving.”

“See? You’re totally fine.”

You didn’t think it was possible for a simple, globular eye to perfectly express gleeful confidence... And yet. A groan forced its way past your lips as you carefully moved to lean forward, feeling the muscles in your back protest.

“You and I have very different definitions of _fine.”_

But as you glanced up to find yourself staring right into Whirl’s big yellow eye, the Mer still right up your personal space with their claw now poking at your side ( _ow-_ ) you had to wonder if _you_  were the one they were trying to convince of your well-being.

It was a fleeting thought, really - especially as Whirl insisted on prodding you closer and closer to your very sore back, ignoring you smacking their pincer away in protest - but it was a thought.

The Mer’s singular eye suddenly narrowed, and the large head lowered itself to scrutinize your, you suddenly realized, _very naked_  body. Sheepish and abruptly self-aware, you feebly tried covering yourself up with your hands, only to find your efforts thwarted by Whirl’s large claw shoving your arms aside. The pincer then moved to nudge against the healing scar below your ribs.

“What’s this?”

You glanced down.

“Oh, err...”

You hesitated, because you were absolutely sitting buck naked on the floor of the _Lost Light,_  ignoring a thousand of health & safety regulations - you didn’t know who Ultra Magnus would throttle first between you and Whirl - and also shedding aside the last shreds of your dignity as you let the giant lobster ogle your unprotected body. You hoped with every fiber of your being that none of your new coworkers walked in on you.

“A scar?” You finally offered.

“Gunshot wound,” Whirl added, and you didn’t dare wonder how they’d come to know what _that_  looked like on a human.

Before you could even think of asking, their pincer suddenly rested around your jaw, sharpened edges resting surprisingly gentle on your skin as the Mer tilted your face here and there. You tried not to gulp, hoping you didn’t pale too much, thinking of how easily claws this size could crush your skull, if the thought took them. Their single eye narrowed down to a slit.

“Hold on just one second... Don’t tell me you’re Gala’s little runt of a littermate.”

You immediately bristled.

“I am _not_  a runt!”

“But you’re Gala’s littermate.”

Whirl almost seemed delightfully surprised to see you bristle even more at that comment.

“Yeah, I am, and?”

The Mer seemed to consider their next quip, before nudging their claw right in your stomach.

“Didn’t think you’d be such a little snitch on top of being a runt. _Gimme my clothes or I’ll call Gala,_  really?” They repeated your warning in a little singsong, nasal voice, before scoffing.

You only glared at them, rubbing your stomach.

“Well, you know how it is. Younger siblings and all that, always being little shits. Besides, you can’t really blame me for being cautious. Last time you were here, you made Fort Max lose their shit and Rung was almost shot dead in the chaos. Swerve needed therapy for months after all that crap.” You muttered the last bit, remembering how much time you’d spent comforting your friend after the incident.

If there was one thing you both now shared, it was a phobia of firearms. You knew that he only wanted to be helpful while the night-shift guards were on their way, that he’d been aiming for Fortress Maximus, that he hadn’t meant to shoot small, frail Rung right between the eyes with a dart powerful enough to put down three elephants. But during the few days Rung spent comatose, Swerve had been inconsolable. And neither you, Gala, nor anyone in the _Lost Light_  cared to repeat any parts of the experience.

Whirl’s heavy plates rustled out as they leant back, offended.

“That’s a gross misrepresentation of what happened!” They protested right away.

But as the seconds stretched on, and your only response was to quirk an eyebrow, they bowed down over you again, an amused glint in their eye.

“Yeah, y’know, that’s pretty fair, actually.”

You shook your head slightly, barely concealing your incredulity. It was baffling how lightly that giant lobster seemed to take everything. Everything that couldn’t possibly be construed as a challenge, anyway.

Hearing footsteps echoing down the hall, you quickly glanced over your shoulder to make sure no one was headed this way before scooching out of the puddle at last, snatching your towel out of Whirl’s curious pincer on your way.

“Just- give me my clothes already, you arse.”

The Mer performed what could only be a dramatic sigh and eye roll, but sounded more like a hissing barn owl trapped in a spinning rotor.

 _“Fine._  Spoilsport.”

Without any warning, Whirl brought up their crusher claw, dumping your clothes and damp wetsuit over your head with a snicker. You jerked away, yanking your clothes off yourself to give the Mer a short-lived icy stare before holding up your shirt.

“... Are you serious?” You shot at them, turning the garment around to show off the large rip running down from the collar to almost half the back.

The Mer looked up from their pincer, after giving a disinterested hum.

“What? Not my fault you meatbags make such flimsy armor.”

“It’s not meant to be armor, it’s just- ugh, why even bother...” You grumbled as you began slipping in your clothes, struggling momentarily to pull your trousers past your hips. The ache in your lower back had begun to abate, but that did not make it any less stiff.

Ignoring the Mer’s incessant staring as you attempted correcting the awkward manner your shirt now slipped down over your arms and chest, you made a mental note to only wear clothes you didn’t mind being ruined from now on at work. Thankfully, you hadn’t been particularly attached to that shirt.

“Why are you even here?” You finally asked, slowly pushing yourself up on feet.

“Do I need a reason to pop up every now and then?” They replied in a cheeky tone, watching you lean against the glass wall of the residents’ passageway as you adjusted your trousers a little.

“I sincerely doubt you came here solely to sneak into the staff room and steal my clothes.”

“I might have.”

“You didn’t even know who I was a couple of minutes ago.”

“But I knew you’d be a sucker,” they sneered, dropping a pincer over your head. The weight of it nearly made you crumple back to the floor, a strangled squeak escaping you as your knees buckled. By some miracle, you managed to stay vertical as the Mer began leaning a bit of their weight over you. “Gotta admit though, squishie, could be you’re not as much of a runt as Gala made you sound. And maybe you can help me.”

 _Not as much of a runt as Gala made you sound,_  what the hell did _that_  mean? You didn’t know whether you wanted to ask, or if you even wanted to know, despite the insistent nagging in the back of your mind. For now, all you wanted was for Whirl to go home so you could do the same.

“Oh, really?” You hissed, unsuccessfully attempting to slide the Mer’s claw off of you.

The yellow eye moved back in your vision, that big head leaning down to your level to look you in the eye.

“Y’see, I’m looking for someone. A scrawny half-pint with big ol’ eyes, acts tough but kinda whiny... A little bit like you, actually.” They teased, giving your stomach another playful poke that left you doubled over.

“... Tailgate?” You wheezed, ignoring their indirect insults as you nursed your abused belly.

“A hole in one!” They chirped, giving your back a firm pat that nearly sent you sprawling before finally moving their weight off of you, allowing you to straighten yourself up a little. “So, where’s the little twerp?”

You took in a deep breath, closing your eyes as you tried telling yourself that this wasn’t the whole Cyclonus incident all over again.

“Quarantine.” You finally sighed.

“Good! I knew you’d be helpful, pipsqueak.” Whirl crowed, their many legs beginning to take them down the hall - however, not before their pincer closed around your arm, dragging you along with them. “Where’s quarantine?”

You gawked up at the back of their head, shoes squeaking as you futilely attempted resisting being dragged along with the Mer.

“You can’t go see them.”

Whirl only spared a glance back when you managed to slip your arm free, capturing it again with practiced ease.

“And why can’t I?”

“What part of _quarantine_  didn’t you get? Is it _quaran-_  or _-tine?”_

Thankfully for your shoulder, the Mer stopped, turning back to you. They still hadn’t let go of your arm, but at least it didn’t feel like it was about to pop out of its socket anymore.

“Look, shorty, I’m just gonna pop in there for a minute, make sure the twerp’s not dying, then tell Cyclonus so they can stop being such a sourpuss all the time.”

“No, Whirl. It’s _quarantine,_  and it’s called that for a reason. I told Cyclonus no and I’m not gonna let you in ei-”

You froze in place, your brain catching up with your mouth, your eyes slowly widening. As you felt the blood drain from your face, the Mer’s face slowly turned around, that single eye somehow radiating pure, unadulterated smugness. They watched you flounder for a long, uncomfortable moment, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as you scrambled for an explanation.

You didn’t find any.

“Oh, you are _such_  a little snitch,” they quipped, and you could definitely _hear_  the smirk in their voice.

You were pretty sure your face was catching fire right about then. You didn’t know it was possible for your skin to burn this hotly, and no doubt you were turning a brilliant shade of scarlet, judging by the delight in Whirl’s eye.

“You can’t tell Ultra Magnus!” You finally spat when you finally gained control over your voice. “I promised Cyclonus that Magnus would never know!”

“Hmmm. I don’t know,” they started, tapping their free pincer against the lower end of their mandibles, “on the one claw, I really don’t care.” They paused, putting on an air of exaggerated pondering, before looking down at you with gleeful mischief glittering in their eye. “But on the _other_  claw, watching Magnus get a conniption of such proportions would be _priceless.”_

“No! You can’t tell- Whirl, if you tell Magnus, I’m going to kill you!” You struggled, attempting to pull yourself free from their pincer without scraping off skin off your entire arm in the process. “I’m going to murder you, boil you, and serve you to the entire town!”

The Mer’s single-eyed stare flattened, unimpressed.

“Oooh, I’m positively quivering in my armor.”

They opened their pincer suddenly, letting your arm go just as you were about to pull, nearly sending you back on your arse with a yelp.

“Listen, shorty, as funny as it is watching you lose your head, I’m not going to tell anyone - because, the thing is, I actually, truly, absolutely _do not care_  about what Cyclonus does.”

You glared up at them, rubbing your newly freed arm.

“Then why are you here, if you care so little?”

The Mer considered you for a long time, unblinking eye fixed on you.

“... Because they’re stinking the place up with their constant brooding. I just wanna make sure their little twerp’s alive so they’ll stop.”

“... Uh-huh,” you nodded, unconvinced that this was the sole reason, but also not knowing how to break it to them that this was actually called _caring._  “Look, if you absolutely must know, Tailgate is doing fine.”

“Your definition of fine, or mine?”

You blinked.

“Mine. You can tell Cyclonus that Tailgate still needs a little more time in quarantine, but very soon they’ll be able to move to their own tank, and then you’ll _all_  be able to visit whenever you want. Alright?”

Whirl’s eye stared at you for a little while, before turning to a slit.

“Alright. Not that _I_  care.”

You simply shook your head patiently, keeping the sarcasm out of your tone.

“Of course not.”

A long, awkward moment of silence followed, during which the both of you stared the other down, refusing to budge. For a while, you almost expected Whirl to take off running again, and you didn’t know whether this time you’d be able to chase them down. Instead, you found yourself nearly crumpling down again underneath the weight of one of their pincers.

“Thought I could count on you, pipsqueak. So, are you gonna be here next time I pop over?”

You squirmed a little, managing to slip from underneath their pincer.

“Pretty likely, considering I’ve just started working here, now.”

 _But with any luck, you won’t be there during one of_ my _shifts,_  you kept to yourself.

“Oh, really?”

Whirl hummed, pincer tapping their lower mandibles as they leaned here and there, obviously staring you up and down. This lasted for the better of a minute, leaving you standing there for an embarrassing and uncomfortable moment, waiting for the verdict to some unknown set of criteria.

“... The attitude could use a little bit of work, but _you...”_  They paused, for apparently nothing if not the dramatic effect. “You, you’re going to fit right in at the _Lost Light.”_

The Mer obviously took great delight in the shocked expression you failed to cover up, words failing you from the unexpected... compliment? This was supposed to be a compliment, yes?

“Uh...”

They cackled slightly, pleased with themselves for some mysterious reason, then turned for the Merfolk passageway, staring at you over their shoulder as they effortlessly scaled the eight foot tall glass wall. That image would definitely not haunt your nightmares for the coming weeks, nope.

“Welcome to the jungle, kiddo.” They snickered from the top of the wall, then plopped right into the water. With a push of their tail, they swiftly disappeared down the passage before you could properly react.

You watched the lobster disappear, thoughts still on the fritz after the sudden, indirect welcome they’d extended to you. Or at least, it was what it felt like, a welcome.

_You’re going to fit right in._

That was a good thing to say, yes? Though considering from whom the comment came from, you weren’t sure there wasn’t some sarcastic joke to be read between the lines, some sort of underhanded insult you weren’t getting.

“... Thanks?” You finally blurted out, belatedly, to an empty corridor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh... This took a while, didn't it? Life sure did _happen_ these past few weeks. I tried working on my fic, but there was just too much going on. My boss squeezed every single last drop of work he could out of me before the season ended. I was exhausted by the time he finally let me off for winter. And then came the dozens of appointments I'd been putting off until the end of the season, medical and otherwise, and then I started looking for work elsewhere than my current employer because I really, _really_ hate the work I do for my current employer, and I also worked on a freelance contract (my very first!), and then WPS for some reason only started using guillemets instead of quotation marks and I had to go play in the code to sort of fix the issue (the fix doesn't always work and it's incredibly frustrating), and so on. 
> 
> But I think what mostly didn't help was that I started weaning off the medication I take for sleeping. So my quality of sleep has taken a massive plunge, and when I don't sleep well... I just don't have the focus and mental power to write. It really sucks, but it is what it is. I've not lost interest for this story, I'm just too exhausted all the time to dedicate the energy to writing it. But when I do, I put in all the work I can. Where am I going with this? I don't know. I suppose I'm just trying to say that this fic will update when it will update. I'll try not to let it get to 2 months intervals every time. But unless I manage to fix the quality of my sleep or establish a proper routine which allows me to work on this story as well as enjoy other hobbies of mine, updates might be a little... sporadic. 
> 
> Heck, this ain't a diary, is it? Sorry for the rambling folks.  
> TL;DR is: I'm going through some stuff. Updates might be irregular. I'm sorry.
> 
> You can find the design for Whirl [here](https://img.pillowfort.social/posts/fd2255074e56_mer_whirl.png)! You can also find all of my designs, some other pieces of mine, and ask me any questions about my story, my AUs and headcanons on [my tumblr](https://bri-does-art.tumblr.com/)!
> 
>  **Up next:** an atheist and a spiritualist walk into a bar...
> 
> Edit: If anyone is interested in beta-reading, please let me know! (Snow, if you're reading this, I'm sorry, I tried contacting you but it seems you've deactivated?)


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